Stand
by Antoinette95
Summary: the alpha pack has arrived in beacon hills as the pack scrambles to recover from the fall out with Gerard. stiles becomes the focus of two sadistic alphas unbeknownst to him and the wolves. the alphas begin attacking, testing their strengths, pushing them to the breaking point, until only one side can stand. first ever fanfic, hope you guys enjoy. post s2. rating may change :)
1. Panic

**One**

**The moon had fully emerged from behind gray clouds, bathing the night in unholy shadows. An unnatural breeze ruffled the branches of trees and shook the shutters of windows. Few cars sped down the silent road, even fewer businesses remained open. Beacon Hills had never seemed so deadly.**

**The woman pulled her jacket tighter around her body, briskly heading towards the end of the street. Damn the rookie that had encroached upon her territory yet again. She furiously dug her keys out of her pocket as her silver BMW came into view. He had been there all of two months and now the rookie had her boss around his finger. Well, they both could…She looked over her shoulder uneasily, pausing in her non- vocal rant. She had heard something, she was sure of it. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as a low growl resonated from between two buildings. Eyes not wavering from the direction of the sound, she quickly pulled out a small switch blade. She raised it before her, jaw quivering.**

"**Come out coward. I'll give you something to growl about." She stammered. **

**To that she received a blood chilling cackle…no….cackles. Several voices joined the first in a terror laden song of malicious laughter several of these female. The woman took a hasty step back, but it was already too late. A petite girl danced from the shadows, a malicious glint in her eyes and a coy smile playing on her lips.**

"… **I guess you will suffice for now. Though I do loathe the bitter ones… their blood does not sit well with my stomach." The girl appraised. **

"**P-Please I have children…a new baby in fact." The woman pleaded as several older men and females emerged behind the girl. She simply grinned wider, flashing sharp canines.**

"**Nice try, but I don't like liars all that much either, sadly now my friends will have to defend my honor and kill you. But before I lose my play toy I need information. Do you know anything about the Hale family?"**

**The woman was shaking down to her heels. Tears filled her eyes as she gulped for air. "Only one Hale is still alive…but I believe he will be leaving soon."**

"**Oh… I'm afraid he won't. Like you he will soon be dead. Anything else?"**

**The woman was now in hysterics, back pressed against her car. She racked her brain for anything that could save her life. It hit her just as a hand wrapped around her neck. She swallowed the guilt for what she was about to do. "The sheriff's son… he's involved with him." She choked. **

**The girl considered this before waving her hand dismissively. She turned back into the shadows as the first scream split the night.**

**Two**

**Stiles groaned and rolled over. He could finally breathe easy, finally take time to reorganize his screwed up life. He couldn't blame Scott for how damaged he had become, but he could be pissed that the guy had once again ran to his psycho bipolar girlfriend instead of checking on his best friend. It wouldn't hurt to make sure the human best friend was mentally and emotionally stable would it? The past few months have pushed him to his limit: the lying, the death, the destruction, the pain… it was all too much. The danger his father had been in… had the man gotten hurt he would not have been able to live with himself. **

**Sighing he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of his mattress. He briefly stretched before padding out of his room to the bathroom down the hall. He paused before the mirror, lightly touching where the cuts and bruises stood prominently. Gerard really was a twisted bastard, but hadn't they played into his hands? He'd allowed them to steal the bestiary, to lead him to the kanima, to inadvertently kill Ms. Argent. The entire time they struggled to stay ahead they had always been behind. Then to kidnap him… that was the only flaw. Scott cared for Stiles, but he would not sacrifice his mother's life or – he hated to admit it- his love for Allison for him. He would eventually come to Stiles' aid, but if his life was not in danger Stiles had only his wits to save him. Gerard had failed to realize this crucial detail. He had let him go free- battered, but free. Had he tortured him, with Scott fully aware that he would be murdered, Gerard would have possibly won. **

**He tensed, hearing a soft thud in his room. Heart pounding, he crept toward the cracked door, praying it was Scott. He nudged the door open with his foot, unsure what to do. Unease pooled in his stomach at the dark void that was his bedroom. He took a step inside and immediately wished he hadn't. His bedroom door slammed shut, a hand clamped over his mouth, his arm was twisted back as his body slammed against the door. He squirmed, eyes locking onto the fiery red orbs before him. His heart began running relays, fear permeating the air. The wolf growled, fangs elongating, nails lightly piercing the skin. **

"**Stiles", the voice barked, "calm your ass down. I need your help."**

**That voice…Derek. Of course; only Derek would attack him like this demanding help. He attempted to control his heart rate. Derek immediately released him, retreating to the window. Stiles glared, rubbing his sore arm.**

"**Nice to see you too Sour wolf. You know, physically hurting the guy that saved your furry butt isn't all that nice. Huh- furry butt? Yeah, I might use that later on. Still, what do you want?" he grumbled.**

**Derek's eyes burned red, never losing their intensity. He crossed his arms furiously. " I need your help." **

**Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah I kind of got that part. What do you need help with? Goodness you're worse than Scott." **

**He growled at the mention of the treacherous omega. "I need information about a pack. More specifically, an Alpha pack."**

**Stiles' jaw dropped, eyes widening. His heart began pounding yet again. A pack of alpha werewolves… holy hell! "Derek…what aren't you telling me?"**

**The wolf was silent, brooding as usual. Well Stiles had had enough. That was one of the things he'd come to hate about everyone – the distrust. You couldn't pledge trust to a person one minute and keep them in the dark the rest of the time. That was how things worked in a team- in a pack. He had harbored a false hope that all that had transpired with the kanima at least taught them that. **

"**You know what? No I'm not doing this anymore Derek. Either I know everything or you get nothing." He deadpanned. **

**The alpha was on him in seconds, half transformed in fury. One hand gripped his throat roughly. Derek pushed him to the floor, keeping that firm grip. Stiles sputtered, a brief wave of panic washing over him before disappearing. After all this time Stiles knew that Derek would never actually harm him, threaten definitely, but not hurt. It was how Derek never put much force behind his antics that clued him in; he never squeezed his windpipe or even left noticeable bruises to reinforce how deadly he really was. **

"**I don't have time for this, Stiles! Will you help me or not?" he spoke through gritted teeth. **

**Stiles held his gaze evenly. "I will, but I need to know everything. After everything. After everything that has happened you can't trust me? Is that how it really works?" he averted his gaze, hurt. "I- I know that with Scott things are shaky, but I have always tried to help. I was hoping that as a team we'd be honest." **

**He felt Derek stand and sat up. He looked up to see the crimson irises slowly returning to their natural hazel. The wolf reached down and pulled him gently to his feet. He stumbled a bit before Derek steadied him. The older man took a step back and began pacing the floor pensively. **

**Finally, he spoke. "It was last week after the warehouse incident. Peter, Jackson, and I returned to my house only to find a symbol on the door. Peter said it was the mark of the Alpha pack, but that was all. I have no knowledge of such a thing… normally packs have one alpha and several betas. Then Erica and Boyd returned scared out of their minds, but even if I ordered them to tell me what happened they couldn't. It's as if the alpha's told them not to."**

**Stile's felt it then. The panic that had always been beneath the surface. His skin felt cold, ice in his veins. His throat began to close, brain whirring. His heart was breaking through his ribs, the pain doubling him over. He hadn't had a panic attack in years, not since seventh grade actually. The fig crept before his eyes and he began shaking. It would never end would it? When would Beacon Hills ever be safe again? The last dilemma nearly wiped them all out and now a group of alphas was descending upon them? He was **_**human**_**! He wasn't built for this; could never level up to this. His father, his friends- they would all die. Everyone he loved would die. **

**Strong hands gripped his shoulders, a concerned voice breaking through the fog. "Stiles! Stiles stay with me!"**

**It hurt, but he reached for the voice, reached and pulled until his lungs began to expand naturally and his eyes readjusted. He was quivering in Derek's arms. Derek, who was holding him protectively. He sighed, feeling unconsciousness sweep over him. "I'll help you.", he whispered before passing out.**


	2. Landed

**Three **

**Derek knew from experience that no one could be trusted. Kate argent had killed his whole family; Peter had murdered Laura; Scott had betrayed him to the hunters. Time and time again he trusted and time after time he was left feeling stupid and hurt. True, Stiles had always been loyal despite his rudeness, but that was only because he had to. If Stiles was pushed he would drop Derek without hesitation. He refused to get close to the boy, to give him that inch. But he had felt the pain erupting within that boy, felt the panic settling in. Stiles was truly hurt that he wasn't trusted, had even admitted Scott was wrong. The guilt began to intensify when the boy had the panic attack. This had affected him more than he let on; it had left him vulnerable, yet he was ready to fight for him yet again. He clenched his fist and slammed it into the charred wall. Peter picked at his nails clearly bored. He looked up at his nephew.**

"**So will the Stilinski kid get us what we need?" he asked.**

"**Yes, he will." Derek ground out. He didn't need his uncle questioning him, especially about the human. **

**A smirk appeared on Peter's face. His nephew was so obvious sometimes…then again he couldn't exactly blame him. The boy was definitely different from any other human he had ever met; stronger, more resilient, brilliant, and burning with a latent power that would make him a powerful werewolf. He stood, pausing when Derek's eyes probed his. "Perhaps I can point him in the right direction. I'll keep a sharp eye on the boy, to ensure his loyalty."**

**Derek allowed his eyes to burn yet again. His uncle was by far the most untrustworthy of all. He was cunning, manipulative, and dangerous. His intellect deeply rivaled that of Gerard. Worst of all, he knew Derek inside and out. He would play on his emotions and weaknesses, twisting his resolve to serve himself. To allow his uncle near the hurt boy would not be a wise idea. "You are not allowed near Stiles, Peter. He is capable of handling what we need." He admonished. **

"**Peter raised an eyebrow. "You trust the boy? Need I remind you who his best friend is? Stilinski is as trustworthy as McCall."**

**Derek growled, clenching his fists. "Stay. Away. I never said I trusted him just that he'll do it. If he betrays me he wouldn't be the first." He turned and trotted into the woods without a backwards glance.**

**He stood off to the side of the field, watching the boys practice. Stiles was blatantly ignoring Scott who- as usual- was oblivious as to why he was in trouble. Boyd and Issac were sparring off to the side on the field. Jackson sat on the benches deep in discussion with the boy called Danny. His newest beta was not as cocky as he assumed he would be; the boy was almost unsure of himself now that he was at maximum power. Danny was interesting; he had the same latent strength Stiles possessed, his only less potent. He would make a remarkable werewolf. If Stiles didn't want the bite perhaps this boy would. **

**He started to approach the pair then stopped, nerves on end. His eyes swept the field for the danger, furious when he found nothing. He looked to his betas who had noticed as well. Issac, Boyd, and Scott had converged around a confused Stiles; Jackson had an arm around Danny protectively. Yet he couldn't control the anger bubbling up in his throat, or the need to protect the weakest person on the field. A sinking feeling hit him. He knew only one thing could cause such a reaction to an Alpha. Another wolf was here at the school. An alpha had landed. **


	3. Playing Field

**Stiles knew something was wrong the moment Scott's whining began to subside. He turned, lacrosse stick in hand, in time to see Scott, Issac, Derek, Boyd, and Jackson sprinting towards him. His instincts kicked into high gear as they drew near. They were all visibly shaking; Scott's claws were already extended, eyes a pale gold. Stiles met Derek's eyes which were a blazing inferno at this point. Derek pulled him close, tucking him into his side protectively. **

"**Jackson, I want you and Boyd to get Stiles out of here, as far away as you can." He growled at his betas. They nodded, but Stiles balked.**

"**What? I'm not going anywhere Derek! I'm a part of this pack too; you can't just pick and choose when to have me around." He broke out of his grip and moved beside Issac. Silence. The wind rustled over the grass, but Stiles kept his eyes firmly trained on the older man before him. He wasn't going to run and hide anymore. He may be human but he'd been through a hell of a lot to walk away, even if it was for his safety. **

**Derek growled, canines elongating. He reached out and gripped his elbow, claws lightly digging into his skin. He held back a wince, but couldn't quite control the spike in his heartbeat. "This isn't up for debate Stiles! It's a damn Alpha- you're human." His tone left no room for argument. Naturally that was exactly what Stiles was best at: finding the room. **

"**Derek you came to me for help! I need to be here. If things get out of hand I'll turn tail and run with my ears down and tail between my legs." He hoped and prayed to God that they ignored the tiny white lie. Of course they didn't. **

**Scott placed a hand over Derek's wrist. "He's right Stiles, you need to go. I don't want you in the middle of this."**

"**Well it's a little late for that don't you think? I AM in this, deeper than I'd like but in it all the same. I don't need an escort, I know the way home." He had lost all patience now. Furiously he tore his arm away and pushed through the throng. He made a beeline for his jeep, fuming over the indignity of it all. He cast a withering look at the wolves, who were now darting off towards the school. Deep down he knew that they were right. All he could really do against an alpha was get killed or cause a distraction. And- let's face it- he didn't care how many Scooby snacks were being offered, he would not be bait. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that it took him a moment before seeing the hulking figure leaning against his jeep.**

**The man was taller than Derek, at least six feet-eight inches; his skin was dark chocolate, darker than Boyd's; his hair was blacker than the night and tied back into a ponytail at his neck. The man radiated power and danger. Stiles stumbled back, causing the man to sneer with a wicked glint in the crimson irises. He took one step forward then in a blink of an eye had disappeared. Everything told Stiles to run, to burn rubber, to get to his friends or his jeep….but he couldn't move. His feet were rooted to the ground, refusing to budge even an inch. He didn't understand how the alpha had made it here undetected, had basically caught them by surprise. It was too soon, too much they didn't know. How many were here? How strong were they? How could the man disappear like that? **

**Suddenly the man was there, a mere arms length away. He was flashing his teeth now, the rancid smell of blood and decay rolling off of him. "My, my….such a special little human we have. You smell…different." The man leaned in and took a long sniff, his nose just kissing his neck. He couldn't help the shudder that rolled through his body. **

"**W-what do you want?" he croaked, not sounding at all like the macho guy he wanted to be.**

**The man took a smaller step forward. "I'm, how do you say? Scoping out the playing field? It's in our best interest to decide how best to play our little game."**

**Stiles swallowed bile in his throat. Damn, where were the guys? "Well good luck. Maybe I'll even get to watch you get your sorry ass handed to you."**

**His eyes narrowed into slits, but the snarl remained on his face. "You won't get to see anything. I have someone who'd love to meet you." He never had time to react. The man reached out and twisted him around until his back was pressed against his front. One arm restrained him around his middle as he kicked and vainly struggled. **

"**Derek! Der-" his scream cut off as the wolf thrust a large hand over his mouth. He bit down, breaking the skin, which only made the alpha laugh.**

"**Calling your alpha? He won't make it in time to save you, I made sure the false trail got him far enough away." He buried his nose into his neck, inhaling deeply. "You do smell like Hale… I did not fathom that he would actually be **_**involved**_** with a human. But I cannot deny that you are very…"**

**He didn't finish his sentence. There was a flash of blonde hair, a startled groan, and the man released him. He went sprawling on the ground, his head hitting the pavement. He rolled over hearing the snarling beasts fight. He hoisted himself half off the ground, just in time to witness Erica flying across the parking lot. Her body impacted the cement with a sickening crunch but she was on her feet in seconds. One arm was dangling at an awkward angle, but she was tearing at the alpha again. He watched in horror as the two went at each other's throats. Erica was greatly outmatched from the beginning. She managed a swipe or two, but mostly she danced away from his angry swings. He should have known their luck was limited at best. **

**No sooner had she moved in for a kick he caught her leg and snapped it in half. She crumpled to the ground, shrieking at the pain shooting through her body. "Erica!" his voice broke. She tried to crawl to him, to shield him with her body. The alpha was faster. He gripped her throat, muscles flexing. The man pulled her to her feet, bringing her to eye level. Her eyes bugged as he squeezed, crushing her throat with every ounce of strength he had. "No, stop PLEASE!" **

**In desperation, Stiles launched to his feet and charged the man. The alpha stared him down with cold indifference. He swung out his free arm and caught Stiles in the chest. He went sailing backwards, his head thudding against the ground once again. Stars exploded before his eyes, a numbness seeping over every pore in his body. He heard Erica struggling for air; the snarls of the alpha, the pleasure he had in invoking such misery; and faintly his name being called. His lids dropped, just as he heard a roar that shook the very ground that was soaked with Erica's blood and his despair.**


	4. The Game

**Derek felt the warning bells go off in his head as he watched the enraged teenager stomp away. He'd learned long ago to listen to his natural instincts; the last time he hadn't Kate Argent had murdered his family in cold blood. Yet this time, as much as he wanted to keep the boy near, he had to get as far from him as possible. It wasn't just that Stiles was a human that could be killed if caught in the crossfire; Derek made no mistake that the boy was not fragile in any sense, but in some ways the boy was at greater risk than even his betas. When regular alphas attacked a rival pack, they went after the weakest members first, but Stiles was more than just a regular member and these were not regular alphas. They would sense his true place within the pack hierarchy and torture him, just to tear Derek apart. It was better that he didn't know, that no one suspected the boy's true place. **

**He swallowed his qualms and turned his attention to his betas and Scott. They had to follow the trail while it was still fresh or they'd lose the alpha. If they could subdue him, perhaps they could get a few answers before killing him. "The trail is heading south from here. Isaac, Boyd, and Jackson, I want you to circle around the eastern flank to head him off. Scott will take the west flank. I'll chase him head on. Once we have him cornered Boyd you'll take the immediate frontline. Isaac and Jackson will cover you like we've practiced. Do Not attempt to actually kill or injure him; you're not nearly strong enough. You're just a distraction. Scott and I will deliver the finishing blows." The betas nodded once and the group dispersed.**

**Something wasn't right. The bells in his head were screaming now, screaming for him to turn back, to return to the field. He'd followed the trail for only a few moments, but he was far enough away to no longer be able to hear the thrum of Stiles heartbeat. More than that, the trail itself didn't smell right. It smelled tainted, almost like Jackson had after he was bitten. But this was not another reptilian nightmare; this was a dangerous wolf from a pack he knew next to nothing about. The scent was definitely wolf, but it was laced with something else that irritated his senses. It was sickly sweet, almost floral, but definitely not aconite. And the farther he followed it, the stronger it became. Were they walking into a trap? If so, what was the purpose of the foreign scent? Unless… it dawned on him then, his gut wrenching in pain. It was a trap, but not for them.**

**He turned and sprinted back towards the school, for once using the incredible speed to his advantage. His ears twitched painfully, a blade driven into his heart when he heard the boy's strangled cries of despair. He allowed the heat, the anger to break loose in his body. He felt as his muscles expanded until they tore. His human skin fell away as the hulking beast ripped out of its cage. His canines pushed through his gums forcefully, his claws extending to their maximum length. Everything took on a reddish hue, sparse areas of gray flitting across his vision. He advanced at full strength, the boy's frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears. **

**He reached the field but did not slow down. He saw the battle; Erica had joined the fray. She was combating the man head to head, but it was obvious the alpha was holding back. He watched in horror as Stiles struggled to his feet and ran at the two. Was the kid stupid? The alpha swung his arm back and struck him square in the chest. The boy flew back and crumpled to the pavement. Even from that distance he heard the rib crack, heard the impact of the pavement. The boy's heart fluttered for a moment, its' pulse weakening. He roared in fury, capturing the man's attention. **

**The man released Erica who fell at his feet, unconscious. The alpha's eyes cut to Stiles only momentarily, before he charged Derek, allowing his body to shift as well. Derek met him halfway. He slammed his elbow into his jaw, receiving a kick to the abdomen in return. He didn't wince at the slight twinge of pain; he pushed the human emotion away and allowed his animalistic instincts to take precedence. They went back at each other again and again, neither gaining headway. They tore, ripped, clawed; but neither of them could injure the other. He stood breathing roughly, the sound of his betas' arrival reaching him distantly. His attention was only on the man before him.**

**Something in the air shifted, causing him to wince slightly. Before he knew what was happening five others appeared behind the alpha. Some were female, others male, but they all had the same tainted scent to them. A petite girl stood in the center, an amused smirk on her face. She had bouncy red hair, catlike blue eyes and flawless pale skin. She eyed the scene with a mischievous glint in her eyes; as though it were a fun game she had the pleasure of watching. It was obvious even to him that somehow this young girl was the strongest of them, the Alpha of the alphas. He snarled, prepared to take them all on right then and there. But the girl snapped her fingers impatiently and the man he'd gone toe to toe with returned to his human form. He bowed his head in submission and retreated to her side. He kneeled at her feet and the smile slipped off of her face, only to be replaced with a furious scowl that twisted her angelic features. **

"**You have failed me Lucas. I gave you a simple mission did I not?" Her voice was a high twinkle, like that of wind chimes. It ran shivers up the spines of her rank; they all feared her.**

**The man named Lucas did not look up, but his back tensed. "Yes mistress." **

"**I told you not to engage Hale or his pack. You were instructed to gather and only gather information. You disobeyed my orders." Her nostrils were flaring. **

"**Mistress, I assure you that I-" he whimpered as her eyes began to blaze. **

"**Silence! I do **_**not**_** tolerate insubordination from anyone. You were given simple instructions and you failed me. I do not give second chances Lucas, especially not to a man who nearly lost to the enemy. Alex! Gale! I want him properly attended to while I have a word with Hale. Get him out of my sight." She smiled again and took a dainty step forward as the two men escorted a struggling Lucas away. Derek tensed, but allowed himself to draw the wolf back in. he felt his skin fold back into place, his muscles return to their normal shape. His betas quickly formed ranks beside him, Scott to his immediate right. He bristled about that, but decided to let it slide. **

**The girl paused beside Erica's limp form and tsked slightly, the amused grin still firmly in place. "She is a fighter Hale; much stronger than most female betas I might add. I did not for see a beta of any kind lasting long with Lucas…but as you can clearly see he does tend to disappoint. Somewhere in the distance they heard an earsplitting howl of pain. The girl ignored it, but behind her Derek could smell the distress seeping from one female. Lucas must have been important to her. "I do apologize however. He was supposed to simply observe you and your pack until we were ready."**

"**Ready for what?" he crouched only slightly as she carefully made her way over to Stiles' prone figure. **

"**A little game. I love playing with new toys you see and the stronger the pack the better the game." She stopped feet from the boy's body and tilted her head slightly. Her eyes wandered to Derek's then to Stiles, then back to his again. She pointed a delicate finger at the boy. "Who is this little human?" Her voice conveyed her confusion more than her scent did. **

**He didn't say anything, just glared pointedly. She took a hesitant step forward and gently sniffed the air. He watched as a knowing smile touched her lips. He felt as if ice had plunged into his veins. "I see now… so this is why Lucas was so eager to get his hands on him. The boy is obviously a beacon for power don't you think. Oh the potential…" she said wistfully. She then stepped away, all business once again. "I'm going to be plain and clear with this Hale. I have come to kill you and your pack. I may or may not incorporate the survivors into our ranks. The female already has my consent to be in my pack; with proper training she will be unstoppable. Let me also make it clear that I enjoy the game more than the outcome. If I find it boring to toy with you then I'll decimate you all without hesitation. If any of you attempt to leave Beacon Hills you all die. As I said before, I do not give second chances, nor do I necessarily play fair." Her eyes cut to Stiles yet again. "The hunters are involved in this as well, so I suggest you notify them promptly, especially the young girl among them." She looked at Scott who was crouched as well, his body shaking in anger. The girl ignored him. "Also, that other female…I would love to extend the invitation to her as well….she possesses a quality I have found in only one other. She is a part of this and no she is not human as you have obviously assumed. Now, I have further business to attend to, as do you." **

**With a snap of her fingers and flip of her hair, she and the other wolves took off into the trees. Derek waited a few minutes, trying to sense a trap. Boyd was whimpering, his hand reaching out to Erica longingly. They all transformed back into their human persona, eyes on Derek, waiting for his approval to approach. Derek briefly nodded, making his way over to Stiles. His heartbeat was faint, but steady, the boy suffering from a concussion. He knelt beside him and gently pulled the boy into his lap, cradling his head. Scott joined him on the other side, the frown deepening on his face. He reached cautiously towards his best friend, gripping his cold hand in his. **

"**Stiles buddy, wake up," he whispered. His face fell when he received a small moan, eyes slightly glazing over. The omega met Derek's eyes. "Derek I-I know you don't trust me anymore…but we need to team up. Now more than ever."**

**Derek was grateful he was holding the boy, otherwise he would have taken a swing to Scott's head. After everything he'd done. After helping Gerard to nearly kill them all just for some stupid teenage girl who didn't give a damn about him, he was asking for help? Did it really take his best friend nearly being captured by the alphas to wake him up? No, Derek had trusted him and he'd gone too far. It hurt, because he'd always felt that of all the wolves Scott would be the last to betray him. The others only sought power to escape their sullied life; Scott was forced into the life. He'd always been suspicious of his other betas because they could decide to leave or overthrow him because they wouldn't need him anymore. Never Scott. It had never been him. Derek didn't give second chances either, especially when it was over something as fickle as an impending threat. After the threat had passed (if they survived) Scott would be gone once again, doing his own thing. Derek wasn't going to do it to his pack, not again. **

"**We will collaborate, but make no mistake Scott, we are not a team." He finally ground out. **

**The kid's anger spiked. "You heard them Derek! We all are in danger if you hadn't noticed. Even Lydia is being pulled into this crap! We won't beat them alone and you know it."**

"**I know that you stupid traitor. I know we can't beat them! But I will not risk you turning on us again to save your pathetic girlfriend!"**

**Scott was on his feet in a second, eyes flashing gold. "Shut. Up. It's not about Allison anymore. They set up a trap Derek; they came after Stiles, not us. You saw, they could have easily killed us all, but that Lucas guy came after him. And you know why, don't you? You know why he wanted Stiles. We have to work together to protect him and win this battle." **

**Isaac and Boyd appeared behind him. Erica, wincing as her body healed itself, joined them. She leaned against Boyd, his arm snaking around her waist. "Scott's right Derek. We all have to work together here. We have to trust each other," she muttered feebly. **

**Derek sighed and looked down at the boy in his arms, concentrating on his breathing and heartbeat. Stile's erratic yet steady heartbeat was soothing like no other; it gave him the perfect anchor to humanity. Isaac gingerly lay a hand on his shoulder, his brown eyes full of concern. "Derek it's the best way to stay ahead… and protect Stiles. We know what he means to you."**

**The others nodded and Derek felt sick. He'd deluded himself into believing the others didn't notice the attraction. He'd hoped his indifference towards him had at least covered him. He ran a hand over Stiles head. "He can't know. Not until this is over. They didn't take him because I haven't claimed him yet, but if we get involved make no mistake, they will kidnap and torture him. They'd hold him hostage; the ultimate game of chess." They bowed their head in agreement and Derek stood. **

"**Meet me back at the house. I need to take him home before the sheriff get's there." The wolves dispersed, leaving Derek to his thoughts and wishing he could rewind the clock and never put Stiles in such peril. He lightly gripped the boy's wrist and turned it over, revealing the blue vein against the pale skin. He gently bit down, just enough to bring the blood rushing to the surface, but not breaking the skin. The crescent stood out prominently, but would fade within hours. "I'm sorry Stiles," he whispered. **

Author's notes:

Yo guys, quick thanks for following the story so far. More on the way, but keep sending tips and reviews, they really help. It took me awhile to post this chapter, mainly because I wrestled with how exactly to have Derek come out with it. Anyway, if you have anything you liked or didn't like, send me a message or review and I'll see what I can work with.

P.S : Lydia, the Sheriff, and Allison will make an appearance, though after season two I would personally kick Allison's behind.


	5. Hybrid

Peter was the best at the games he played. He reveled in watching the pawns scramble to survive, unaware that they had no control over their fates. All he had to do was adjust a few every now and then, and the dominoes would collapse until he was the victor. His hands rarely ever got dirty, except when he played in the mud, as he was now.

The girl was buried under silk comforters; only her reddish, blonde hair was visible. He absolutely loved that hair; it was the exact shade Lisa's had been. Yes, Lydia Martin was his favorite little pawn. She was better at manipulating people to her will than the others, even the Stilinski boy. But he was not here to play his own game this time; Derek needed all the players on the field, even the hidden ones.

His hand lingered over the blanket, tracing the outline of her shapely body, before grabbing a fistful and pulling it back. He stared in amusement at the mannequin in a little wig. Someone cleared their throat and he did an about face, chuckling at the girl. She stood behind her door, the moon casting eerie shadows across that angelic face. Her pale green eyes were cold, her hands gripping a small handgun. He raised an eyebrow and sniffed the air. A low hiss escaped him. The bullet was laced with wolfs bane. She was a crafty little devil.

"Well hello there sweetheart; how nice to see you again. Lovely as ever I see." He inclined his head, offering a gentle smile.

She bristled at the comment, jaw squaring. Her grip on the gun tightened ever so slightly. He wandered if she would actually shoot him. After all, he had nearly killed her and terrorized her weeks thereafter. If it had been him he certainly would. "Get the hell out. I don't know what you want, nor do I necessarily care," she snarled.

Peter perched on the edge of her vanity table, admiring her many beauty trinkets. Why did the girl try so hard? She was already a knockout; men fell at her feet every day. "Lydia I'm here to help and warn you. There is a new threat in Beacon Hills, another wolf pack. You need to know-"

"I can handle myself Peter; I'm a big girl now. I don't need you or anyone to protect me anymore."

"In all honesty sweetheart, you could protect yourself as well as Stiles can. You need to know what you are and your limits if you want to have an advantage." He explained quickly, not wanting to anger the girl.

Lydia lowered the weapon only slightly. Her head tilted, her hair cascading over her shoulder. "What do you mean "what I am"? I'm human."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was the tricky part. He wasn't sure if he could absolutely trust Deaton's diagnostic, but it was the only plausible answer. Still…. The girl needed to at least know the theory. "When you were bitten, I was rabid, completely out of my mind. My venom was tainted; no matter how deeply I would have bitten you, I would not have been able to turn you or anyone else."

She swallowed thickly. "Didn't you turn Scott?" Her tone was accusatory; already she didn't trust him.

Peter nodded. "That was before the madness took over. I had control over myself then. Whatever I may have done, I knew what I was doing. But I was broken, you see. After my family was killed I was left scarred on the inside and out. That darkness coupled with the power of an alpha will drive a man mad. I was already far gone when I attacked you. The bite should have killed you when you weren't turned. Your body fought the rabies, fought the bite. You didn't heal though, and that created the bond between us."

The girl winced at the memories of his torment through her mind. He felt only slight guilt; the ends had justified the means as far as he was concerned. "After my return I sought out Deaton, I needed to understand the connection. He listened to my story and told me you were a hybrid. In a sense, the bite did kill you; it morphed your soul." He waited while the information sunk into her pretty little head.

Lydia's knees quaked. She dropped the gun and slid to the floor. She hugged her knees to her bosom and began rocking herself. Her eyes were wet. "What does that mean? Am I a freak?"

He stood and hovered over her. "No it does not. In ways it makes me better. Deaton said that the bite did everything backwards. Your body can't heal itself and you can't heal others without first taking the health of someone else. You retained your human scent, but we can't hear your heartbeat or feel your emotions. You can influence the emotions of the humans around you, maybe even wolves if trained. We can communicate with you through visions that you control. You'd have to form a bond with that person first. Sadly, you don't possess our strength yet, but you've developed the speed."

Lydia looked up at him, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Why aren't I strong yet? What good can I be without my strength?"

"You're developing slower. As I said, it's different for you. In due time, you will develop strength, though you will never be able to transform unless bitten by a non contaminated alpha. If he bites you under a full moon, you can possibly revert back into the human narcissist we know and love. On a new moon he could completely transform you into a regular wolf."

"You mean Derek Hale, don't you?" her voice was a low whisper now. He didn't answer, confirming her fears. He knew she was frightened of Derek more than him. She didn't want to be a wolf, especially underneath someone else's power. And he blanched at the idea of the girl becoming an omega; she wouldn't stand a chance, especially as a hybrid.

"Lydia…you have to start training with us. You have to join ranks with us now. The other pack is fully aware of who and what you are. They may be in the dark about your specific abilities right now, but trust me they won't be for long."

"Why do I have to do anything? I don't want this, I never did. You guys can handle this like you have been all this time. You didn't need me before; I won't be of help now."

"They are coming after you specifically. They're calling you out because you're rare and strong. They only have one other like you in their ranks. They don't want this to be an even match; not in the slightest. Their leader will offer you a position, and if you refuse to claim loyalty to either side, she'll dispose of you right then and there. We need you and you need us."

She raised her head. "There's another like me?"

"Yes, and he is extremely dangerous. He was bitten and transformed into a full wolf, but he's retained many of your qualities. Only he has a tiny floral edge to his scent, because his blood is tainted with aconite. We wouldn't be able to detect him until he was in his wolf form. Lydia please see reason."

Her eyes searched his for any falseness. There was none. She stood to her feet and squared her shoulders and blinked the last of the moistness from her eyes. He admired that about her; she did not allow herself to be controlled by her emotions. It reminded him so much of Lisa. God how he'd fallen for the woman; followed her to the end of the Earth. The pang in his heart began to throb painfully, but he held his composure. He would see his Lisa again one day when the game was long over.

Lydia cleared her throat yet again, demanding his attention. "Okay, what do I need to do?"


	6. claimed

Stiles grunted as his body hit the forest floor. Despite popular belief, the deadened leaves did not cushion the impact at all. His body was covered in scrapes and bruises from weeks of combat training with the pack; Tylenol had become his new best friend. He didn't even see the point in hand to hand combat; he'd get shredded regardless if he wasn't or was good- which he definitely was not. Derek just wouldn't let it go though. Even his sharpshooter skills- being the son of the sheriff had its' advantages- weren't enough to impress the sour wolf.

They'd been at it for about two and a half weeks and Stiles knew it was pointless. The alphas hadn't attacked him again since the lacrosse field, but they had gone after Jackson one night. That particular fight was gruesome; Jackson couldn't use his left arm for about four days after. Yet Derek demanded daily practices. They normally started around seven and went until eleven on a basic warm up. The second session began at one o'clock sharply and ended around eight. During that time they either practiced combat, tracking, or other stealth training. After they'd have a little sparring tournament; Stiles predictably came out on bottom, Derek or Peter on top. By the end of the day Stiles seriously questioned his resolve to remain loyal to them. Wasn't there like a rule or something prohibiting such treatment? Where was _his_ workforce union?

It wasn't necessarily that he wasn't tough; he may not have been brawny, but he could handle his own. It was his knack for somehow tripping over thin air or punching himself in the face that hindered him. And of course there was the ever helpful Derek constantly encouraging him in his "_do it or I'll personally kill_ you" sort of way; great pep talk. Sometimes the others would even stop what they were doing simply to get him get beat up by the alpha; even greater teammates. At one point Erica had called it adorable when he'd fallen and managed to pull Derek down on top of him. He shot her in the forehead with a rubber dart later; it was oddly satisfying. Still, the whole thing was grating on his nerves.

"Come on Stiles, you can do this. Try to flip me over your back." Derek extended a hand which Stiles ignored. He huffed and pushed himself to his feet. He stumbled a bit, and Derek caught him. It took him a minute to realize he was against the man's nicely shaped and sweaty chest, his hands gripping Stiles waist. He couldn't help the blush that flooded his cheeks or the slight twitch in his jeans. The warmth, the embarrassment had him reeling backwards out of Derek's arms. How could he be stupid enough to get that close?

He muttered an apology and an excuse about needing to take a breather before retreating around the side of the burnt out shell of a home. Stiles knew he was in deep trouble- deep, deep trouble. He'd first felt the attraction the night Jackson had them stranded in the pool for four hours. He saw Derek fall in and even though his survival instincts fought against him, he'd jumped in. they'd almost drowned, but his mind had been on keeping the paralyzed man alive at all costs. It was hours later as he lay in bed that he realized he couldn't get him out of his head. That night he'd dreamt about Derek and his lips on his. That had only been night one.

Stiles took a deep breath. He needed to stay focused. Derek had no physical interest in him or any other male for that matter; he wasn't gay or bisexual. They also had a pack of deranged wolves to deal with. So far, the alphas had lost two players, but who knew how many other soldiers they had at their disposal. He'd managed to find out a little about them, like the fact that even if they were killed by a beta, the beta in question would not inherit that power because the alphas were genetic mutants. Oh, and let's not forget that they had _human_ soldiers as well. Derek didn't have time to deal with his pathetic little feelings. Stiles would have to swallow his emotions and move on.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and he yelped in a very manly manner. Derek raised an eyebrow and smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. The hazel irises were overflowing with concern, honest concern. Stiles gulped, immediately dropping his gaze to study his feet. He was positive wolves had some sort of hypnotic abilities, because every time he looked into Derek's eyes he felt like he was melting. He grimaced inwardly. It had come to this; he officially sounded like a retarded teenage girl from a low budget chick flick.

"Stiles are you alright?" Derek asked. Stiles did his best not to gawp, but it was damn hard not to. The only tones he was accustomed to were "irritated", "pissed off", and "Shut up Stiles". He'd never heard Derek speak softly, especially to him.

"I'm fine, just a little tired." He waved it off, attempting to sound cavalier.

"You're exhausted and hurt. You're literally running on hot air." Derek noted, crossing his arms.

Damn werewolf senses. "What else is new? I'm a human who's had his ass handed to him one hundred thousand times every day."

The wolf seemed taken aback and almost…regretful. "Sorry about that. It's supposed to help you defend yourself. You won't always have a gun with you."

That was the line they'd all been feeding him since day one. But he came to the conclusion that even having his own gun would be pointless since the wolves were around him twenty four seven. What really irritated him about that explanation was Allison. _She _wasn't getting the lecture or being put through training. All she had to do was show up to practice her hunting and stealth; sometimes she was even allowed to hunt the wolves- with non lethal weapons of course. Though it was hilarious when she'd shown up the second day armed more extensively than the military; Erica had thrown a hissy fit that day. (Apparently Allison was far from being forgiven.) The fact of the matter was she was not forced to fight freaking werewolves without her crossbow or some other type of hunter equipment. Hell, even Lydia wasn't classified as a fighter. She'd warm up with them, but then she and Peter would skip happily ever after to Deaton's for "specialized" training. It was all a conspiracy.

"I don't see the point Derek at all. I can't fight a wolf and you know it. Allison gets along just fine with her weapons; why can't that be enough for me too? I'm even better than she is. She admitted it!" He knew he sounded whiny, but he didn't care.

Derek's face clouded over, something unreadable in his eyes. He stepped closer until Stiles could feel the heat radiating from his body. ""Hopefully you won't ever need to use the skills I've taught you. Just… I need you to please trust me. I need to know you're okay."

Stiles looked into Derek's eyes incredulously. The man was offering his trust to him; extending the olive branch. Had he done the same thing months ago, Stiles would have been literally rolling on the floor laughing. But that was before they'd fought side by side, before they knew each other. He laid his hand on his bicep. "I'm okay. I trust you."

The man was staring intently at him again in a way that had his nerves tingling and body flushing. He didn't realize how close they were until he felt Derek press his nose into his neck. The man's hands were firm against his hips, pinning him against the side of the house. A sound akin to a purr rumbled deep within the alpha's chest. Derek pressed so close their fronts were actually touching; and he was fairly certain something was poking him as well.

He squirmed as Derek pressed his mouth along the vein in his neck. His hands fisted in Derek's hair and tugged. He did not _need_ this right now. He was trying to be thee responsible one for once. "Derek stop. W-we can't…not-not now-"

He was cut off by a surprised gasp. He turned his head and saw Scott, who did not look pleased at all. His eyes were staring daggers at Derek who had hastily stepped back. It was a good thing looks couldn't kill. As it was, his best friend was storming towards them, eyes ablaze. Isaac, Boyd, and Jackson rounded the corner, tensed to attack. They took a moment to assess the situation, eyes growing comically wide as they concluded what was going on and smelled his arousal. Stiles face was scarlet.

"What the heck Derek?!" Scott raged. His body was shaking.

"Scott calm down man." Isaac came to his side, grabbing his arm.

"He. Promised. He. Wouldn't." he forced out. His eyes began to glow. Jackson and Boyd quickly tackled him to the ground, holding his arms and legs. Derek had slipped into a defensive crouch in front of Stiles, his eyes bright red and fangs glistening. Isaac stood in the middle, clearly at a loss about what to do.

Stiles couldn't figure out why they were all acting so weird. Derek had just been scenting him hadn't he? All the wolves did it. He coughed to get their attention. They ignored him. "Yo, dudes! What's everyone's problem? I thought we were all cool."

Scott was struggling fiercely. "Derek promised. He promised he wouldn't do it. He lied!"

"He wouldn't do what? What did he lie about?" Stiles was beginning to panic. His head was throbbing painfully. He hadn't taken his medication…it was too much… too much.

Derek was holding before he realized what was going on. He rubbed his back slowly, whispering to him. The panic waned, but his head was still thrumming. He clutched Derek's chest, breathing heavily. Scott's growls subsided until he was simply panting from exertion. Stiles took a peek at him; yup, still pissed. The boys let him up, but hovered just in case.

"How could you Derek? Are you that selfish? Does his life mean nothing to you at all?"

Jackson's fist came out of nowhere and caught him in the jaw. Scott was too stunned to get angry. "Back off McCall. It's not any of your business."

"What the-? It is my business! He's my best friend! I won't let him die because the all powerful _alpha_ claimed him!"

"Best friend? He'd be dead if it wasn't for his brains and Derek! How many times Scott did you leave him, push him aside, and forgot him, for Allison? Huh?! While you're up Derek's ass did you even consider that or what Stiles may want?"

Silence, just a suspenseful silence. The trees rustled overhead; leaves rained down on them. He had a sneaky suspicion that this had nothing to do with scenting. Scott had said he'd been claimed. "By…claimed…you mean?"

"You're smart Stiles. He's claimed you as _his_. You're his-"

"Scott!" Derek barked warningly.

"You're his mate! He's chosen you to be his mate!" Scott bellowed defiantly.

The training session had ended early. Stiles had numbly broken away from the bickering men, disregarded an affronted Lydia, and drove home. His mind was still processing everything because it didn't make sense. Derek could have chosen anyone and he'd chosen him. Why? What could he possibly offer? From what he understood, wolves mated for life and it was not taken lightly. Was he ready for that? And if so, how much longer would he be able to remain human?

By the time he pulled into the driveway his brain was mush, unrecognizable mush. He slid his keys into the front door and pushed his way inside. His father would be working late again; he didn't bother locking the door. He took off his jacket and flung it into the living room before bounding up the stairs. He collapsed face down on the mattress, sighing contentedly. Naturally his mind wandered back to earlier that afternoon. The feel of Derek against him, of his lips…it drove him insane. He loved him, really loved the guy. Did it matter if he was a wolf? Yeah it made it cool and everything, but he'd want him either way. He knew deep down he could adjust to settling down with him forever, because not even his crush on Lydia was anything like this. Derek had only made the first move because Stiles was distressed, which made his wolf distressed. He had tried to be comforting by scenting him, but he had inadvertently claimed him by the gesture.

The longer he thought about it the more he wanted to kick Scott's ass. Jackson had just about summed up everything he'd kept bottled up inside and that was surprising. Jackson had only hated Scott because he'd hated Stiles. Still, best friend or not, Scott had no right to say those things. Derek cared, that much was obvious to Helen Keller herself. He needed to talk to Derek, to make things right. He sat up, and screamed like a girl. Yeah…he wouldn't be the man in any relationship. The man he'd just spent the rest of the day fantasizing about was climbing through his window.

"Derek!" he said excitedly. The older man grinned and came around to his bedside. He shuffled a bit, unsure of himself.

"Stiles…we need to talk. I-I know this must be confusing, but I won't force or guilt you into being with me."

"What are you talking about sour wolf? Of course I want to be with you. Are you dense or something?" He pulled on the man's hand until he sat on the edge of the mattress.

"What Scott said is true though. You may be in danger now, but that's nothing compared to what will happen after the claim is official. I couldn't bear it if- if they hurt you." He closed his eyes and turned away. Yeah, Scott was getting a major ass kicking. Stiles reached out and gripped his hand.

"Derek don't do this before anything even happens. Don't shut me out, please. I'm not afraid; I know I'll be fine."

He wheeled back, his eyes burning. "How could you possibly know that?" his voice broke.

"Because I trust you." He knew the words meant more to Derek than anything else he said could. The hazel eyes widened, before softening. Derek leaned in and forcefully pressed his lips to Stiles'. He pulled back and gingerly grabbed his wrist, exposing his pale veins. Stiles watched in awe as he leaned down and bit him. At first he felt nothing, and then a warm tingling sensation rushed through him. His body quivered as his senses were heightened. Every time Derek touched him he felt a thousand bolts racing from his roots to his toes. He gasped as he suddenly fell back to earth. He looked down at the crescent shaped mark. It hadn't even broken the skin and he'd felt all of that?

He looked at Derek who was grinning proudly. "We're bonded. It's not as strong because I didn't turn you, but that's okay. I prefer you human." The wolf wrapped him into his arms and pulled him down. Stiles snuggled against him and closed his eyes, for once at peace.

**author's notes**

** i know you have been waiting for this moment and ta da, here it is! to me this makes sense, but let me clarify a few things. Stiles is still 100% human...for now. Allison is in the story, but she won't make her on screen appearance yet..and boy do i have plans for her! anyway, review and i hope you guys enjoy. next chapter really heats up. **


	7. loyalty

**The sun shyly peeked over the horizon. Clouds of pink, purple, and red parted as the crystal blue sky awakened. The blades of grass and leaves of trees glittered with morning dew. The first chirpings of birds accompanied the sun as it made its' ascent into the heavens. **

**Allison stepped onto the back porch and stretched, crossbow slung over her shoulder. Her black hair was pulled back from her face in a messy bun. She breathed deeply for a moment, her chocolate brown eyes sweeping the yard. A small line creased her forehead. She would never be used to having to watch her back everywhere she went, even in her own home. **

**She marched over the soggy grass, past the back gate, into the depths of the trees. She walked until the canopy above blocked out the majority of the light. The rhythmic crunch of leaves under her feet reminded her of those times as a young girl when things were beautiful, when they were easy. The dawn, which once brought serenity and calm to her, only filled her stomach with dread. Her mother had always told her the sunrise meant more than the new day; it meant second chances, new revelations. She should have known even then as a naïve child it was more; the dawn meant another day to fight to live or a day to die. It was a horrid time caught between night and full day, good and evil. Like her, it had no place.**

**Allison was not proud of the things she'd done since moving to Beacon Hills. She was not the double crosser, the deceiver…the murderer. She shook the memory of Erica's terrified shrieks from her head. Who had the monster really been that night? It certainly wasn't the teenagers running for their lives. Yet no matter how much she berated herself for what she did, she continually fell into the same trap. Kate had twisted her innocence and confusion to get Derek; Gerard had used her grief and anger to turn her into a coldblooded machine that did his dirty work. It was a sick pattern; she'd always fall prey to her emotions and her family. Unlike the others she didn't have a set future anymore; not since she'd accepted the fact that Scott was hers. Was she a hunter in which case he would eventually die by her hand? Was she to leave her father and become one of them and die by her father's hand? Where did she fit in? The middle had once been safe, neutrality serving to keep her friends and parents with her always. It was no longer an option; it was selfish and had cost far too much. It was time to choose loyalties.**

**A lone tear slipped down her cheeks and she impatiently batted the rest away. She was tough, not a cry baby. It was time to move forward, to try and correct her mistakes with her actions now. Taking another deep breath, she notched an arrow, aimed, and let it fly. It zipped through the air before snagging the trunk of a Bigcone spruce seventy five meters away. She reloaded, still struggling to comprehend her place in this war between the supernatural and hunters. She remembered her fist day at training weeks ago and Erica's chilling snarl. **

"_**She's not one of us Derek! How could you ally with that two faced bitch? Did you forget how she tried to kill us all, what she did to me and Boyd? She would have killed her own boyfriend if her psycho grandfather hadn't needed him. She's a traitor and I refuse to trust her even for a minute. She's as twisted as her family."**_

**She let the second arrow go, smiling when it splintered the first. What Erica had said was true to an extent. No matter what happened or what anyone wanted she knew she couldn't kill Scott. Allison may have made dire decisions that left a fissure in the relationship, but she still loved him. She would do anything for him, even at the pack's expense. It may have been selfish, but it was how she truly felt. She wasn't going to pretend to like Derek at all, but she had come to realize bitterly that her mother had dug her own grave. She thought of Stiles, sweet and loveable Stiles. He didn't like her much and with good reason. She'd stolen his best friend; kept breaking said friend's heart; and had allowed her grandpa to kidnap and beat him. She would not admit it, but she'd known the plan, excluding Gerard trying to become an alpha obviously. Despite his contempt however, she did care for him. He was too vibrant and expressive a person to simply hate or ignore. Secretly she'd told herself that had she never met Scott he would have been her second choice; but knowing how screwed up she was at the moment she couldn't fathom hurting him like she had Scott. **

**Sighing she dropped to the forest floor in the kneeling and prone position, letting a few more arrows go. She could at least be sure that she had a future with Scott and Stiles, both of whom were fiercely loyal. Of course she had her father to consider. He was literally the only family she had left and vice versa. Where did his loyalty lie? He'd fought alongside Derek and the pack since Scott had been turned. They'd taken down Peter and Gerard together. Had that changed his philosophy at all? Did he reconsider who were the real dangers in the town? Or would he disregard those instances? Allison let her stomach drop. If it came to it…if her father tried to kill the pack without provocation that could be proved…Allison knew that her father knew she would side with the wolves; she'd willingly fight to kill her own father. **

**She sprang to her feet and went to collect the used arrows. These few moments of solitude gave her time to think without outside influences. Her mind felt clearer than it had been since her mother had died. It was confusing and sad to think that her life would unravel if one of the pack members were to overstep the shaky treaty they had with the Argents. Yet she knew in the end her father would be proud of her for choosing and sticking with the ones she loved. That was soothing to think about.**

**A branch snapped to her right and she was immediately on high alert. As quietly as possible she loaded a special flare into the crossbow and began to back towards her yard. She surveyed the surrounding trees as she went, ready to strike at any moment. This was what she was best at; this was why she was strong. Silence rang through the wooded area; the birds had stopped singing. A predator was close by; she was being hunted, and not by friendly parties. Slowly, she dug out her silver cell phone and called the person she knew would rally the pack the fastest. "Lydia it's me Allison. I'm going hunting." She snapped the device closed and tossed it to the ground. They had all chosen codes to use when they were in trouble: hers was "I'm going hunting"; Scott, predictably, used her name; Erica and Boyd agreed to simply howl; Jackson and Lydia both used the date they officially got together; Isaac called his brother's name and Stiles chose his mother's name. Derek and Peter refused to get one at all. **

**She aimed into the bushes to her left. Her finger skimmed the trigger, her pulse steadied. The seconds ticked by, but she waited. She was patient, letting the leaves fall around her without breaking her position, slipping into the deadly hunter she really was. Something flickered in her peripheral vision and she released the flare without hesitation. It whistled and thwacked against the creature. Bright lights exploded, illuminating the silhouette of a woman. She quickly notched another arrow and sent it into the thigh of the wolf. **

"**It's rude to sneak up on people. Especially a huntress", she taunted. Allison was not cocky, but this time she couldn't help herself. These alpha's had picked the wrong unstable teen to mess with.**

**The woman stumbled out of the bushes, eyes as dark as blood. She shook so violently her strawberry curls were dancing. The she wolf bared her fangs and Allison let loose another projectile, turning and making a mad dash for her house. She needed to get her father and get more ammo, her supply running dangerously low. Behind her the alpha roared in displeasure. Allison had been training harder than most to perfect her hunting abilities. It was top priority to know how to effectively take out the alpha wolves without dying in the process. An idea popped into her head, one she'd only ever practiced on Derek himself. She pivoted and ran towards the woman. The alpha snarled and swiped out with serrated claws. Allison rolled to the left before using her momentum to flip over the wolf's head. She pulled a silver blade from her combat boots and plunged it between her shoulder blades. The woman howled as the blade sunk to its' hilt, wolfs bane slipping into her blood stream. **

**The enraged animal kicked back before Allison had time to react, catching her in the stomach. The wind whooshed out of her, her back colliding with the trunk of a tree. She doubled over, retching in agony. Her survival instincts kicked in and she dodged as another kick came her way, this time aimed for her head. The impact left a fissure in the trunk. She sprinted towards her yard, running through the tips Derek had given her during training. Don't ever give a wolf the chance to grab you, keep moving or you'd die. She had to get back up and fast. Where the hell was the cavalry? **

**A clawed hand reached out suddenly, yanking her by her hair which had slipped from its bun. Her head snapped back, sending excruciating pains down her spine. The woman spun her around and slammed a fist into her jaw. Stars exploded before her eyes, the coppery blood filling her mouth. The she wolf was wild, her face pasty white, breath reeking of decay and blood, human blood. "You insolent little brat; you think a pathetic **_**girl**_** stood a chance against me? I am the top lieutenant, my husband the second. Did you honestly believe that I would let some stupid human-?" **

**Allison used every ounce of will power she had and spat in the female's face. The blood and saliva splattered the wild woman's face, droplets shining in her hair. The eyes widened in fury, her nostrils flaring. The woman lifted her off of her feet and tossed her farther into the woods. She heard the sickening crunch of bone before she felt it, saw the unnatural bend to her wrist. She cradled it to her chest, attempting to crawl away from the advancing beast. The alpha pounced, pinning Allison beneath. A sick smile played on her lips, her finger tracing Allison's jaw line before sinking one claw at a time into her cheek.**

**Allison couldn't hold back the yelp. She writhed beneath the beast's weight as she withdrew one talon at a time. The woman laughed, face lighting up in glee. She skimmed down until her palm lay above her left breast. Red eyes stared down into brown ones and she once again plunged her hand into the tender flesh. Allison's back arched, a blood vessel popping, her scream hitting octaves it never had before. She sobbed when the hand yanked away. They were buried again in her upper thigh. Her heart skipped a beat; the alpha was grinning from ear to ear. "So fun…" she cooed before slicing through her leg. She felt every ounce of burning pain; the tendons ripping, muscles shredding, bone carved by the claws. The alpha leaned in and pressed her blood red lips to her hear. "This was for your alpha. He should have heeded my mistresses' warning; she does not like being bored. Trust me your fate is much better than the others will suffer. I am the gentle one of my pack; my husband is as sadistic as they come. He was promised a much more fun prize when this is over, a trophy of sorts. He enjoys the hunt unlike me. The most valuable prize if the hardest to win."**

**The teenage girl coughed, vision blurring. She was losing too much blood, she was going to die. Her mind whirred, trying to come up with some plan to at least take the alpha down with her while processing what had been said. A valuable prize… they wouldn't want to toy around with Derek, they'd kill him. Lydia could be the possible prey, her being so rare. Allison coughed again, chest burning. She felt something press against her lower back, something cold and metal. The alpha pulled away and raised a bloody finger to her forehead. She traced something there, too focused to notice Allison grab the object. The alpha froze, but it was too late. She pressed the barrel to the blonde's temple, her mother's prized pistol gleaming in the sun. "Win this bitch." She pumped the trigger twice, splattering herself and the ground with blood. The woman's eyes bulged, her body sagging sideways to the ground. **

**Allison dragged herself to the nearest tree and hoisted herself unto her good leg. She clutched it for support, her breath rattling, head spinning. She distantly heard the frantic footfalls of her rescuers. Stiles burst through the shrubbery first, a special shotgun she'd loaned him aimed at the dead beast. Lydia and Jackson came next, the newest wolf transformed. Isaac, Derek and Boyd flanked around Stiles, Derek moving slightly in front of him. Isaac was flinching, actually whimpering at the scene before him. She smiled weakly at them, strength waning. Her eyes swept over them all until they found the person she had to see before she passed on. She focused on that wild and curly chestnut brown hair; those sweet brown eyes that sparkled with terrified tears; her angel had finally come. He rushed to her side, scooping her close to him as her leg gave way. She weakly clung to him, his warmth sending shivers through her. She laid her unharmed hand on his cheek and rubbed it soothingly with her thumb. "Scott…"**

**The alphas had taken things too far. Attacking a werewolf was one thing, a human was another. They'd meant to kill Allison. That much was clear; had they wanted to hold her hostage she would not have been hurt that bad. The dead alpha has tortured her, nearly tore her apart. The only question was why. Why had they targeted her specifically? If they wanted to eliminate an actual hunter, wouldn't Chris be the intended victim? Allison was good, but the girl was a novice at best. It was senseless. **

**Derek rubbed his eyes tiredly. He wouldn't vote for the girl in a popularity contest, but that didn't mean he didn't care for her. He didn't agree with her recent choices but he couldn't be heartless; she'd had it rough as of late. She was manipulated, confused and hurt; she wasn't exactly in her right mind when she trampled over the people she once called her friends. She was just lost. She was important to Scott and by default important to him and the pack. True, Allison was not allowed in actual meetings, but she'd somehow become pack. The girl was stronger than most teenagers her age. She had lost everyone but her father and was in love with a monster. She didn't deserve this at all, even if she occasionally tried to kill them. **

**He looked around the reception area until he found Scott. The boy was in a corner, hair sticking at odd angles, eyes bloodshot, clothes covered in blood, an inhaler between his rigid fingers. He reeked of despair; a low whine slipped through his teeth every time his super hearing picked up Allison's heart stutter or she groaned. The boy had relapsed; his body was fighting against him. He'd had two asthma attacks since arriving at the hospital, the second worse than the first. Derek had seen that happen to bitten werewolves before; some died from the excruciating pain of their wolf trying to calm the human emotions that had intensified. **

**Derek surveyed the rest of his pack. Erica had her head resting on Boyd's shoulder; and though her blonde hair obscured her face, Derek could smell the salt from her tears. She was distraught, caught between hating herself and righteous anger. Erica had to be tracked down, then she adamantly refused to come to Allison's rescue. He was prepared to order her, but they all heard the agonizing shriek and left her fuming. Those minutes they'd spent arguing could have saved Allison much suffering, and Erica knew this. Boyd tried to comfort his girlfriend in his silent monk sort of way.**

**Lydia sat in a daze. She hadn't spoken since they'd found the mangled girl on the brink of death. Her hair had lost its' luster, her cheeks hollowing out. Derek kept a close eye on her; her hybrid powers were affected more from her emotions than they'd realized. Her grief was toxic. Jackson was hovering protectively. The kid was in shock over what happened, but otherwise his focus was on Lydia. Every time he touched her, her hair would brighten, her eyes sparkle a tad. **

**Isaac stood guard outside Allison's room while her father sat inside. He was also watching the others, only his stare was possessive. The boy had come from a broken home and now that he had a family he didn't want to lose it. Derek could relate. After the fire he never imagined he could ever have that family bond with anyone ever again. Laura was there, but she was grieving as well, they weren't a family. Isaac had had a brother, mother, and father who had loved him; but the woman had left them in the cold; his brother had died some years later; and the man he'd trusted, the only one he had left had abused him for years until he died. Derek was proud of Isaac for not pushing people away as Derek had done.**

**Stiles was tucked into his side, their fingers intertwined, completely silent. That worried him. He loved to hear the boy's incessant banter- sometimes- and wasn't used to his muteness. His heart kept skipping as though he were warding off a panic attack. He distantly recalled when the boy had witnessed the jeep crushing the mechanic. Whether Stiles would admit it or not, that experience had scarred him. Now this, seeing the last person any creature with a heart would hurt covered in gashes and blood…it was too much. Derek rubbed his arm affectionately, trying to soothe him.**

**It occurred to him then that this was his fault. He was the alpha, the protector of his pack. He had been so preoccupied with training them that he'd forgotten that some members were human and therefore required a little extra protection. That was error number one. Waiting had been the second. Hadn't the red head made it clear that is she became bored they'd pay? Their mark on Allison's forehead was evidence enough that she meant business. He'd waited until they attacked first and now one of his pack members were hurt. If Allison didn't pull through…**

"**It's not your fault Derek." Erica whispered, pulling him from his reverie. He looked into her puffy red eyes. The others were watching him too, all except Scott who remained mute. He huffed and glared out the window until he felt a slight squeeze. He looked down patiently at Stiles.**

"**She's right Derek. It's nobody's fault. Not this time." He murmured. His eyes were wide and sincere, innocent almost. He heard an irritated growl and looked incredulously at Lydia. She stood, looking normal and deadly. **

"**Listen to them stupid. Instead of us sitting here like she's dead we should be preparing to go to war. They've gone too far. Now we have to play the offensive." She spoke calmly, but in all reality she looked lethal now. She was progressing at an unprecedented rate. He growled in frustration. Didn't they understand how dangerous that was? He was trying to keep them alive, not rush into a fight they couldn't win. He couldn't fathom losing any of the annoying teens, not at the hands of those monsters. His blood ran cold as the images of their broken, lifeless bodies flitted past. He would not lose his family, not again. Before he could tell them as much a bell twinkled over head and the others tensed. Derek reacted instinctively. His arms wound around Stiles waist and he stuffed the startled boy behind his back, as far from the door as possible. He stopped then, cursing himself and whoever else he could think of. He knew staying in the hospital was a bad idea, but he had to be with his pack. These were things he couldn't explain to the sheriff who was eyeballing him disgustedly. Things just got complicated.**

Author's notes:

Sorry it took so long, but this chapter took awhile to shape just right…and I had to see breaking dawn part2! Anyway, rate or pm me anytime. I really hope you guys enjoy this.


	8. Truth

**Stiles couldn't look up from the floor, couldn't bear to see the accusation in his father's eyes. For months he had fed the man lies; for months he had sent him on several wild goose chases to protect him; for months he had gradually been severing the bond he shared with the man. And now, here he stood with Derek Hale who was still grasping his waist protectively, while Allison was dying in another room about to tell yet another lie. He didn't want to see the distrust in those eyes, nor the pain the sheriff suffered by watching his son go off the deep end. He just couldn't do it anymore; he was done, completely done. He recalled those few hours after he'd returned home from the warehouse, the words his father had said. **_**"I will always love you Stiles, understand that. But…kiddo I can't do this anymore. I don't know what's happening and I know you're lying for whatever reason you think is right and it scares me. I can't help you anymore; I can't keep running to your defense. I- I can't trust you anymore." **_**He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his hardest to block out the agonizing ripping of his heart. His father hadn't looked him in the eyes since then, hadn't bothered asking what he was up to anymore. **

**He swallowed loudly before looking up. His father was staring crossly at all of them, his face beet red. He kept casting sympathetic and worried glances at Scott who had not acknowledged his presence, but turned scorn glares on the others. He was practically murdering Derek with his eyes, hand itching towards his weapon. The deputy behind him was openly staring at Stiles, head tilted to the side in confusion and something else he couldn't decipher; it was unnerving. The sheriff cleared his throat and used the most threatening voice Stiles had ever heard him use. "Okay, I'm done with this. Anytime something in this town happens you all seem to be right in the middle of it," he pointed at each teen and Derek, "And I realize this girl is your friend. So I'm asking this once and once only. What happened?" **

**Everyone in the room turned their eyes to him. Stiles felt the blood rush to his cheeks, felt the sweat moisten his palms. His father was watching him wearily and expectantly, the pack eyeing him fearfully. He gulped. "Allison was out in the woods behind her house shooting arrows, you know she's like part ninja or something, and she called us for help. By the time we got there…when we found her…" his voice faltered, the images flashing in his head. Allison looked as if she were already dead when they'd arrived; he was surprised she'd held on this long. He'd seen the white of bone in her leg. But he couldn't convey the horror to his father. He felt a gentle squeeze from Derek and collected himself. **

**The sheriff crossed his arms uncomfortably. "Any idea what may have done it to her son?" Stiles bit his lip. This was the tricky part. He was pretty his father would haul them to jail if he used the sorry mountain lion excuse they'd fed him since the beginning; but he was even more positive he'd be committed if he told him the absolute truth. It occurred to him then that they had finally reached a crossroads; whatever he said now would ultimately decide the fate of the pack. He ran through the trials they'd faced then Scott had been bitten by Peter Hale. The answer was obvious; he hoped he had the courage to go through with this. He squared his shoulders and met his father's eyes. "We can tell you…in a private environment." **

**The sheriff arched an eyebrow. "Why can't you tell me straight Stiles?" He cast an accusing glare at Derek. **

"**Dad, I know I don't deserve it… but if you can trust me this once, I promise everything will make much ore since. Please dad." He used his eyes to plead with the man who looked surprised. He seemed conflicted on what to do: does he follow protocol or get the information off record? Stiles detached from the alpha's arms and walked to his father until they were eye to eye. "I know these past few months have been hell…and I know that you know I was a part of that. It's complicated and some things are too dangerous to say in front of…" he inclined his head to the deputy, "But I need your trust this once. If you let us explain you'll understand why. Just- just please give me this dad." **

**His father opened his mouth, but the deputy beat him to it. "Sheriff I'll report an animal attack. You talk with your son." The man nodded and walked out to the patrol car. The sheriff watched him for a moment, and then addressed the rest of them. "I assume you're all involved in this as well huh? Even you Hale?" They nodded. He sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. He put both on his hips and looked sadly at Scott. "Is he going to be alright?" For that no one answered. They all knew that Scott would not be okay until Allison was okay. Stiles wondered briefly if she was his mate. Was that how it felt for the wolves? **

**The man clapped him on the shoulder and followed his deputy outside. They waited in tense silence until they heard the squad car pull away and drive down the road. Stiles was looking at his feet again, not wanting to meet the flabbergasted expressions the pack was no doubt displaying. He had just promised to expose them all, to reveal the dark secrets they'd struggled to contain for months. He didn't need to see the betrayal in any of their faces, not now. He knew in his gut this was the best choice of action, the best possible thing to do. If they didn't understand he was just trying to help they could all kiss his ass. His father could help them; besides it was only a matter of time before the sheriff found out anyway, might as well be now. **

**He felt someone press up against him from behind and squeezed his eyes, ready to be reprimanded. Instead he felt strong arms wound around him and spin him. He opened his eyes and met innocent hazel irises. He'd never seen Derek look at anyone like that, with such concern and vulnerability. "Stiles we're not upset. We support you 100%, I swear."**

**Stiles couldn't help the hesitation. What if his dad didn't respond well to the whole thing? Would his pack support him or drop him? He couldn't handle that, not after everything they'd all been through. The truth was he was too insecure, even with them. They all shared an inseparable bond, they all had a set destiny with each other; they would die a pack, never separated. He on the other hand didn't have that with them, not even with Scott. He'd realized that when Allison came into Scott's life and he, the best friend for years, had taken an immediate back seat. He realized how easily he could be replaced, how easily he could be forgotten. What good was he anyway besides doing research when needed? He didn't have powers; he couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag with a hole in it; not to mention his knack for drawing the supernatural. He was annoying at times- he knew and accepted that namely because he did it on purpose sometimes. It would be too easy to kick him out and he would have no claim in which to fight back with. How could Derek swear they'd be with him 100% if he himself didn't know if he'd made the only right choice?**

**He looked away, not wanting to let Derek see the conflict in him. He worked on controlling his breathing, but it was hard. His heart kept hammering in his chest, his mouth kept working to tell them all how he felt. He refused to put his emotions, his most private thoughts out there to be dissected. He knew it wasn't healthy to keep it all bottled in, but it was better than having the others analyze him and pity him anymore than they already did. He felt more heat encasing him and he looked up to see the pack crowding around. Lydia sandwiched him between Derek's chest; Erica was squeezing his middle through a hole she'd somehow made between them; Isaac and Boyd were rubbing his back soothingly; and Jackson held a gentle hand on the back of his neck. Even Scott had moved to them, shoving Lydia slightly out of the way to hug him too. It was the weirdest thing he'd ever experienced, but it reminded him of those nights when he'd snuggle between his mother and father; it was comfortable. **

**Derek bent his head and nuzzled Stiles neck affectionately. "Stiles you have to trust us. I know this isn't easy to believe but you ****are**** a part of this pack." The others murmured in agreement, Lydia pecking him on the cheek. He grinned at Jackson's scowl and Derek's slight growl; jealous idiots. He allowed them to smother him for two more minutes before wrestling his way free. "Okay, we meet at my house. Bring Mr. Argent along as well; I have a feeling this is going to be tough."**

* * *

**The sheriff took a long swig of Jack Daniel's straight from the bottle. Stiles sat nervously across from him, the pack surrounding them both. They'd explained everything from the beginning as best as they could; trying to let the man have the full story. As it was he'd just about hauled them all down to the station when Stiles said that all the trouble was being caused by wolves- werewolves that is. It'd taken all the courage he had to force his dad to listen, to make him sit and ear the actual truth. And though it sounded ridiculous to even his own ears, he knew that his dad believed him; he just knew. **

**They all waited as the sheriff sat the bottle down and rubbed his head. He looked at all of them as if expecting someone to crack or yell "GOTCHA". He mumbled to himself and Stiles could have sworn he heard Erica and Jackson snort. He turned to look at them questioningly, but they faltered under their alpha's withering glare. The sheriff cleared his throat and Stiles turned back to him. **

"**So….let me see if I heard you all correctly. Everyone besides Stiles and Allison is a werewolf. Okay…and Jackson was the one killing everyone a few weeks ago because he was a cannibal or something. And Peter Hale somehow came back to life. Did I cover everything?" They all nodded in unison. "Okay…and werewolves and hunters battling it out is the cause of all this crap that's been happening, am I right?" Again they all nodded. The sheriff looked at them all, before bursting into hysterical laughter. He clutched his sides and roared with laughter. The teens all looked at each other clearly wondering if the man had snapped. **

"**Stiles, do you honestly expect me to believe that? Son, werewolves don't exist, let alone inhabit a town like this. Come on son, be reasonable. Are you going to tell me the truth or not?" **

**Stiles couldn't help hanging his head. He'd hoped his father would listen, would believe him. He knew it sounded stupid, but for once he was being honest. Maybe it was too late; maybe he'd really ruined that trust for good. He curled his hands into fists, wanting to bolt from the room. He hadn't expected it to be this hard. How could he make it any clearer to his father that he'd only lied for so long to keep him safe? It was the simple fact that people who knew became targets, and at the time they didn't have a strong pack that could protect his father. Things were different now though; they'd become closer than they once were. Anger boiled inside of him. He was done holding his true feelings, done using sarcasm to slip by. **

**He stood to his feet and slammed his hand forcefully on the table. The laughter died down abruptly, his father startled. The wolves were staring open mouth at him, but he didn't care. "That's enough Dad; I know it sounds crazy but you know it's true. Think about the evidence. It didn't fit together before, none of it did- I should know I obsessed over it. Now you have an answer that links it all together and you laugh? Open your eyes! I know it's hard to believe me anymore dad, but you need to give me something here! I'm trying to keep you alive, that's all I've ever been doing! Please dad I'm begging." **

**The sheriff looked at his son for a few good minutes and Stiles felt guilty for yelling at him. He never usually expressed his frustration verbally like that (Scott could confirm that seeing as he'd been at the receiving end quite a lot), but this time he couldn't control it. He sank down onto the chair and waited silently. The hands on the clock over the stove ticked, each time sounding louder than the last. Finally the sheriff spoke. "It's not that I don't believe you Stiles…it's just you really waited this long to tell me? I- I could have protected you better; I could have kept you safe had I known. Gerard would have never touched you if I knew what was really happening around town. You're not the father, son, I am. It's my job to lie to keep you out of harm's way, not the other way around." Stiles let his mouth slightly hang open. His dad never really expressed his feelings like that, not since his mother had died. His father actually believed him, gave him a chance. He stood and before he knew what he was doing he was hugging the man. It was embarrassing, but he needed this moment, needed this time to just be with his dad. That is, until the doorbell rang.**

**Stiles pulled back and went to the door, opening it without bothering to check through the peephole. He was confused to see the deputy from earlier that day standing on the porch with a duffel bag in his hands. Now that he wasn't distracted, Stiles got a good look at him. The man was about six foot two inches tall with broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms. His eyes were electric blue, contrasting sharply with his sandy blonde hair. He was grinning down at Stiles, showing off normal pointy teeth. He couldn't help the slight shiver that ran up his spine; the man was definitely creepy. **

**His father appeared behind him. "Phil, I almost forgot you were coming over. Your room is upstairs, next to Stiles' room, I'm sure he'll show you later." **

**The man's grin widened until it split his tan face in half. He nodded and moved into the living room. The pack joined the three of them curiously, though Derek pulled Stiles back until he was partly behind him and the others. He tapped the man's shoulder, but it was Isaac who leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "That man isn't a werewolf but something's wrong with him. He smells of death, but he's clearly alive and healthy. Derek's just on edge; don't worry." Stiles released breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He grabbed Derek's hand and pulled him into the kitchen. **

**Derek immediately pulled him into a tight, but comfortable embrace, burying his face in his neck. Stiles loved when he did that; it drove him crazy. "Are you okay? We still have to tell my dad about…us, but we don't have to do that now."**

**The man shook his head. "No, we should let him adjust to this first, then break the news to him. But Stiles…I know this sounds paranoid but after what happened with Allison today I need you to be careful…especially around that man." He jerked his head behind him. "Something is not right with him. I know it's probably got nothing to do with the alphas but I- I can't risk you getting hurt. Be careful okay?" **

**Stiles leaned in and softly pressed his lips against Derek's. His hands gripped Stile's waist, pulling their bodies close together. Their kiss was brief, but worth it all the same. They broke apart and joined the others, who wore identical masks of horror (Scott and Jackson) or were giving them sly, amused smiles. Stiles felt himself turn beet red and ducked his head. Damn werewolves. **

**His father ushered everyone out of the house, wanting to speak with them all privately, leaving Stiles alone with Phil. He shuffled his feet nervously, heart fluttering. The man tilted his head to the side, an amused smirk on his lips. "I guess it's time to show me to my room isn't it Stiles." He nodded and turned, heading upstairs without checking to see if the guy was following him. He was definitely creepy on an inhuman level, but Derek had said he was human. Maybe he was just spooked and on edge; what danger could a human pose to him in his own home? He stopped at the door across the hall from his, gesturing to it nonchalantly. "Bathroom's down the hall. Obviously you know where the kitchen is, sooo yeah see ya around I guess." **

**He attempted to side step and return downstairs, but the man caught his arm. "If I need anything at all I can come to you right Stiles?" he watched him closely, his grip unbreakable. He didn't know why, but those eyes unnerved him. **

"**Umm…yeah I guess man. But knock first you know?" he tugged away and went into his room instead, locking the door behind him. He breathed deeply before jumping a foot in the air; Derek was perched on his mattress, arms crossed. He was scowling, but otherwise just looked exhausted. Stiles went over and climbed into bed, pulling the wolf down with him. Derek rolled onto his side, bringing Stiles to him until his back was plastered against his back. He draped an arm over him protectively and planted a tender kiss just below his ear. Stiles smiled and closed his eyes. Sometime later, as they both eventually fell asleep, a figure sat on a branch just outside the window, head tilted to the side, electric blue eyes glowing in the moon light.**


	9. motive

**Lydia pulled the black corvette into the parking garage, hands tight on the steering wheel. She willed herself not to glance in the rear view mirror, willed herself not to peek at the sneering red head in the jeep behind her. She'd noticed the tail as soon as she'd left her house, immediately alerting the others she was being tracked. Her plan had been to visit Allison since she'd woken up from surgery, but she wouldn't risk the girl's life by bringing an alpha along with her. Besides, something was different about this particular wolf; she radiated power that even Derek lacked. Whatever she wanted, it couldn't be good. **

**She pulled into an empty parking space, promptly turning the car off and stepping out. The garage was desolate and smelled of mold and must. Besides her own car and the alpha's vehicle, there was no one else insight; good thing too, she didn't need a bystander getting in the way. She closed her eyes, concentrating on drawing in the heat, as Deaton and Peter constantly taught her. She felt it stirring beneath her skin, felt the blood vessels expanding and boiling. She gritted her teeth against the sensation of her fingernails sharpening and pushing out into dangerous claws and her teeth acuminating to a lethal point. She held her breath until her blood vessels stabilized, before looking at the red head.**

**The girl had an eyebrow cocked, head tilted to the side, mouth hanging open a little bit. With that expression she looked innocent, childlike even; but Lydia knew better and never gave much into what people wanted you to see. After all, she was the best at pulling off the ditzy innocent girl look; she knew the fakers better than they knew themselves. She assessed the girl, using her senses to feel out the situation. The alpha didn't appear threatening at the moment, but then this was the puppeteer who was attacking them. Lydia watched her closely, sniffing the air around them for any signs of another wolf. There were none. **

**They stared each other down, neither dropping their gaze or giving an inch. Finally, after an eternity of sizing each other up, the red head let out a high pitched giggle. "Oh I do like you. You're strong, much more than I'd originally thought. Not to mention that lethal personality of yours. It's not every day I actually meet a hybrid worth my time, them being mere half breeds and all." She displayed a mouth of pointy teeth, the insult not lost on Lydia's ears. She let it roll of her back, knowing that playing the snarky bitch was her best feature. **

"**Thanks, now let's get to business. We all know you aren't coming for fashion advice, although if you manage to survive this little game you started I might spare a few pointers." She kept her face blank, not willing to give the alpha any emotion.**

**As it was, the little girl's smile dropped off her face, a blush creeping into her cheeks. She narrowed her eyes and snarled. "Very well then; I have a proposal for you, one I'm certain you won't refuse." **

**Now it was Lydia's turn to laugh. "A proposal, huh? Well I have to say this is a dramatic change from trying to kill us. Though I have to ask… do you really believe I'd betray my friends to serve under a brat like you?" **

**The tension in the air was tangible. The two females began to unconsciously circle each other, coming closer together after each revolution. Lydia could taste the fury burning off of the girl; could feel the bloodlust rising to the surface. A bell went off in her head. This girl wasn't as in control as she put off to be; she was as unstable as a beta, as Jackson even. That had to mean something. Was her alpha strength weakening? Was it stronger than her? If Stiles were here he'd be able to bounce ideas around with her, but at this moment he was tracking her with the others. If she could pry more information from the girl before the others arrived… "Why did you go after Allison?" **

**The red head stopped, her eyes flashing crimson. Her tiny hands clenched into fists at her side, her body trembling. "That girl is a hunter. I have no use for people like her. How you can ally yourself with such a filthy and pathetic human I have no idea. In all honesty, we were trying to eliminate her as a favor for you."**

**Lydia growled fiercely, slipping into a low crouch. "Don't you dare speak of her that way. Allison is as loyal to us as we are to her. You crossed the line going after her; you should have stayed away."**

"**You fool! Do you not realize the damage that girl's family has done? We all know what her aunt did to Hale, but do you know the other atrocities they've committed? They murdered my baby brother in front of me because I refused to give up my alpha. And you know what? My alpha turned tail and ran! He left us, all of us to die. I was the only survivor because I was resilient. Only the strong survive, only the strong can level an entire state if they wished."**

**She shook her head. "Allison had nothing to do with any of that. She's sided with us multiple times in the past." **

**The alpha scoffed, rolling her eyes. "We've been watching the Argents, Lydia. We know how lethal that girl is. She was willing to kill all of you just to avenge her pathetic mother. How can you defend her?" **

**Lydia swallowed down the bile that was rising in her throat. Her vision was tinting red, she tasted the overwhelming bloodlust, wanted it even. Her atoms were vibrating out of her body; she wanted to attack, had to. She dropped onto all fours, feeling her body morphing and shifting. The strength flooded her muscles, her bones willingly expanded to take it all in. This was what it felt like for the others, their transformation. The girl's eyes widened in shock. She took a hesitant step back, before furrowing her brows and flashing her eyes to their full strength. Lydia felt the full force of them wash over her. Unwillingly, she bowed her head in submission. She didn't know how long she stared at the dingy pavement with cracks in it before she felt the claws pierce the back of her neck. She refused to cry out at the sharp pain. **

"**Don't get ahead of yourself Lydia. I may be smaller than you, but I am still an alpha. I am the leader of a super race of wolves, one that will soon bring this country to its' knees. Now, I was offering you the position as my top lieutenant, seeing as we have an unexpected vacancy. My second in command is much like you…he could use a mate that's slightly more versatile than the last. Think about it." **

**The claws retracted and the girl was gone. Lydia sat there trembling, feeling herself phase back into her human form. A low sob choked its' way out of her mouth, a few tears leaking down her cheeks. She closed her eyes to swallow down the wall of emotion that was building within her. After all of her training she was weak enough to be halted by a look. How could she hope to actually take down the hybrid alpha on her own? Maybe Peter was wrong about her, maybe she wasn't going to reach that level in time to stop the hybrid. And how could she have let herself lose control? She was normally calm and collected, not ready to rip someone's head off. But that alpha was verbally attacking the one person she considered her best friend; what else could she have done? In the back of her mind she realized she could have gotten killed. Taking on a hybrid like herself was one thing; taking on the alpha of alphas was something else entirely. She wasn't honestly certain Derek would be able to handle that girl if it came to it. **

**She allowed a few more tears to roll down her face before pulling herself together. She shakily stood to her feet and leaned against her shiny corvette for support. She closed her eyes and waited for the heat to dissolve, for her humanity to take control again. Her eyes opened and she slid into the driver's seat of her car, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel. It took her a moment, but she was able to compose herself. She knew the wolves and Stiles were a floor below, but she couldn't help feeling vulnerable and frightened. **

**Lydia took a deep, steadying breath and adjusted herself in the rearview mirror. They may be her friends, but she would rather be mauled than have them witness her coming apart at the seams. She reached into her purse for her lip gloss, but her hand closed around a rolled up piece of paper. Gingerly, she pried it open to read the neat little scrawl. It was a drawing, a tiny little etching of a Nazi swastika. The wheels in her head were turning, but she couldn't quite make sense of it. She flipped the paper over for more clues. There was one tiny little notation written in careful cursive: **_**For Stiles. **_**Lydia looked at the drawing again, lips pursing in agitation. These alphas were playing some kind of twisted game and it was grating on her nerves now. **

**Someone tapped lightly on her window and she turned to look into Jackson's sparkling green eyes. She couldn't help but beam at him, despite the situation. She flung her door open and propelled herself into his arms. He was startled, but caught her, one hand on her waist, the other in her hair. He placed his chin on top of her head, smelling her natural floral scent and coconut shampoo. No sooner had he squeezed her than she moved on down the line, embracing all but Peter and Derek. She doubled back to Stiles, coyly slipping the paper into his pants pocket. He was smart enough to pretend not to notice and returned her hug. **

**Derek rested a palm on her shoulder, looking worried. "Lydia are you alright? What did she want from you?"**

**Lydia sighed and leaned up on her tiptoes, placing a quick peck on his stubble cheek. His expression was scandalous. "She offered me a position as her top lieutenant and the mate of her hybrid. Apparently, the old hag Allison took down held both until she was killed." Jackson growled and Lydia reached back for his hand. He gripped it protectively. **

"**What else? Did she say anything that might be important? Maybe about why they're here?" Peter threw in. A few pairs of eyes turned to him curiously, before falling on her again. **

"**The girl said they would create a super race of wolves to bring the country to its' knees. I'm not sure what that has to do with us specifically, but I guess it's kind of important." She shrugged, looking meaningfully at Stiles. She knew he would understand: put the clues together, then let's rock and roll. His head twitched in what she took as a nod. She pulled out of Jackson's grip and addressed Derek again. "I know I should probably lay low for awhile since I was approached by the head honcho, but I need to see Allison." She didn't wait for any confirmation, just wheeled about and climbed into her car. She blew Jackson a kiss then sped out of the garage, not bothering to look at the concerned expressions behind her.**

* * *

**He didn't waste any time bounding up the stairs to his room. He slammed his door closed and made a beeline for his computer. He extracted the wrinkled piece of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out. He gasped, finger lightly tracing the swastika; it was the same symbol that crazy alpha had drawn on Allison's forehead. He ran his tongue over his lips nervously and dug around on his computer desk for his history book. He flipped through it feverishly until he found the chapter he was looking for. He bent low over the book, reading the faded print in earnest. **

**His heart began tap dancing against his ribcage. He couldn't believe how simple it was… how they'd obliviously overlooked such crucial details. The alphas weren't just genetic freaks of nature…they were **_**creating**_** the gene themselves. They were like Dr. Mengele, experimenting to create the perfect species…the alpha species. Stiles couldn't believe he didn't see it before. They were literally Nazis; eliminating the weaker members of packs and mutating the strongest into heartless, bloodthirsty alphas. That explained why they'd tried to get rid of Allison; she was the equivalent to a Jew and therefore was required to be killed, her being a hunter and all. The alphas were planning a Holocaust so to speak, starting with the separate packs, and then taking over the human population. Damn, they were cunning. They'd been running wild the whole time while the alphas had been patiently watching in the shadows. They'd allowed Derek to train them for the final battle, the end of it all, just so they'd be able to weed out the superior species. **

**He tore out the pages, not caring that he'd have to pay a huge fine for it if he survived. Derek had to see this **_**now**_**; they needed an emergency pack meeting, anything to come up with a new game plan. Stiles grabbed the picture and stuffed the papers inside his pockets, scrambling around for his car keys. They weren't in his room, but he was positive he had them. Cursing himself in every language he knew, Stiles flung himself into the hallway and took the stairs in three leaps. He rounded the corner to the kitchen, skidding right into Phil. **

**The man didn't seem surprised at all, in fact amused. He caught Stiles before he could topple over into the counter, hands digging into his hip. He instantly recoiled, feeling as if he'd been shocked. His heart was seriously thudding now, so much in fact he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. Stiles wasn't going to pretend the guy wasn't scary as hell, because he was. He never seemed to work when the sheriff did, and when he was alone with him, the man stared or tried to talk to him about his friends. Phil also had a knack for appearing outside his bedroom first thing in the morning, an unnerving grin fixed on that place or outside the bathroom door after his shower. It wasn't natural and he couldn't wait until the man moved into his apartment. Seriously, did it really take a week to get everything settled? **

"**Uh, sorry dude. Kind of in a hurry. Just looking for…" Phil dangled his keys in front of his face. He reached for it with his right hand, not wanting to break eye contact. The man acted faster than Stiles thought possible. He snatched his wrist painfully and pulled it to his face, examining it closely. Stiles felt his blood run cold as the man's thumb lightly pressed the crescent shaped mark. It was nothing at all like the blissful sensations he'd felt when Derek pressed it during their nights together; it felt wrong, it hurt. **

"**Interesting scar you have here Stiles…how did you get it?" his voice was sharp, but no more than a whisper. He didn't loosen his grip.**

**Stiles gulped and looked anywhere but at him. "I don't really remember. I'm so clumsy I get bruises and stuff all the time; not like I can recall where they all come from." He shrugged nonchalantly, and tried to gently tug his arm away; it wouldn't budge.**

**Phil's eyes narrowed, his face darkening. He jerked Stiles closer to him, until their chests almost touched. "It looks like a bite Stiles. From an animal maybe? You been around any dogs lately?" The man's voice had a dangerous edge to it. He really wished he hadn't come home alone. **

"**S-Scott works for the local vet. I don't know, maybe one of the dogs bit me and I forgot. Look I really have to go, can I have my keys?" he was looking around for anything he could use as a possible weapon. Phil had never touched him before, let alone squeeze his wrist until it felt as if it would snap. This was getting out of hand. The man glared for a few more minutes, his eyes looked as if they were pulsing, before releasing him. He sat the keys in the palm of his hand, then brushed past him. Stiles stood there collecting himself, before rushing out to his jeep. **

**As he drove along, he called everyone and told them to rendezvous at Derek's.**

* * *

**Lydia was more than impressed with Stiles; she could kiss him. He'd put the pieces together quicker than she could have, figuring out what they were after and how the hell there was even an alpha pack to begin with. She leaned her head on Jackson's shoulder, loving the smell of him. He was alluring in a way no one else could ever be, his scent so powerful she felt as if she could melt into him. He threw his arm around her, his attention firmly on Derek, but she could see the tilt of his lips. **

**Stiles was leaning back against said alpha, waiting for the verdict. Derek seemed preoccupied, massaging the boy's wrist, every so often bending forward and pressing his mouth against it. She looked on lovingly at the two, trying to fathom how they had waited this long to get together. She felt the flutter in her heart and pressed her lips against Jackson's jaw. Her alphas feelings were infectious, she couldn't help herself. Before Jackson could react however, she moved out from under him and addressed the room. **

"**Okay, so we know what the alphas want, we know why they're here. What do we do? What's the game plan?" she looked around at them, waiting for suggestions. Scott was the first to speak.**

"**The full moon is going to be in three days. If we're going to do anything, it has to be done before then otherwise we don't stand a chance." **

**The others nodded in agreement. Lydia however, felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped. Peter had told her what the full moon could do for her; if Derek bit her she could be human again. Wasn't that what she wanted? Didn't she want to be full human, without the scary powers and death threats? It was right there for her, just three days away. All she needed was for Derek to bite her and she'd be free. She surveyed the people in the room, the ones she'd come to regard as her family. They'd been through a lot together the past few weeks; they'd all included her into the fold without qualms. She knew she wasn't always Miss Ball of sunshine, yet they all overlooked her snarky attitude and accepted her as she was. Not many humans could even do that. Did she want to give all of this up for her humanity? There would be other full moons… considering she lived and all. No, they needed her until the alphas were dealt with, and then she could decide what to do. She forced herself to pay attention to the arguments again. **

"**Allison is going to need a guard both before and after. It can't be Scott; he's one of the best fighters, we'll need him available at all times." Erica said, casting Scott a furious scowl when he opened his mouth to protest. **

"**Stiles should stay away for a few days in that case." Isaac threw in. The air electrified almost immediately. Lydia shifted from foot to foot, nibbling her bottom lip anxiously. Stiles was giving Isaac a scowl worthy of Derek; she idly wondered if he'd picked that up from the alpha since they'd been dating. **

"**I most certainly will not." Isaac's eyes widened at the fierce tone, not expecting him to argue; what a novice, did he not know Stiles at all? **

"**Stiles alphas get more powerful during that time. Not to mention these are mutated alphas; who knows what they'll be capable of. I'm on Isaac's side, we shouldn't risk it." Derek soothed. Lydia felt like smacking both her alpha and Isaac. Were they both really going to pull this stunt? She pinched the bridge of her nose irritably as the three engaged in a cut throat shouting match. Scott jumped in to defend Stiles, but was quickly ignored seeing as he couldn't provide any valid points as to why Stiles would be important to have around. The others smartly stayed out of it, eyeing Lydia warily. Her patience had just about reached its' snapping point when Peter intervened. **

"**Stiles just needs to lie low on the actual night of the full moon. There's no reason why he can't be around us during the day. The alphas already know about him anyway, so if they are planning something that night, chances are they'll try to get him before that. It's better to keep an eye on him than let him take his chances alone." No one said anything, considering this. Derek's face pinched slightly, but otherwise he could find nothing amiss in Peter's resolve. Lydia huffed and sat back down beside Jackson. **

"**Well since we have that covered I think I give my plan. I say we take care of them the day after the full moon. Think about it; they'll be recuperating from the power high of the nights. That also gives us a chance to figure out where they're hiding out. If we do that and strike at the right moment, we have a good chance of winning." She intertwined Jackson's fingers with her own as she spoke. **

**Derek was appraising her with a proud look. She gushed under it. "That's a good idea, but what about you? We still have no idea who their hybrid is. I don't want you fumbling trying to find him during the battle. All of us are coming out of that alive and unscathed." Derek said the last part threateningly. She grinned at him.**

"**That's what I have Peter and Stiles for. They'll cover me while I lure him off. His alpha already said he wants me, so chances are he'll come my way. When I've got him off alone, Stiles and Peter are going to help me take him and any other alphas out."**

**The man gently squeezed Stiles shoulders. He didn't seem to agree with that part, but it was a working plan. They sat in silence, waiting for the official word. Finally Derek nodded his consent. Stiles winked at her and she beamed at him. It wasn't everyday you came up with a plan to destroy a race of mutant werewolves. **


	10. Fragile

_Author's notes: This chapter shows how the pack (some of them) spent their last day before the full moon. Complete fluffiness, just because this story needs some of that. For this chapter I decided to choose a theme song I thought fit it. I know I've gone off the deep end, but enjoy and look up the song._

_All That I'm Asking For- Life House_

**Jackson was definitely up to something. He'd sent her the cryptic text message, telling her a specific location and nothing else. Lydia had almost called to chew him out, but her curiosity won out. Now she stood under the glaring sun on a secluded villa in the botanic gardens, waiting for him. He hadn't picked a bad place to do whatever he was going to do. The walkway was made of polished marble; hand crafted wooden benches lined the walk way every few meters; minute black fences lined the actual garden itself, but even they had dark green vines curling around them; white, wooden arches rose above her head; the canopy above filtered the sun's light, casting hues of green on the flowers. The sweet aroma of fresh blossoms wafted up her nostrils, singing to her senses. Whatever he was up to, he was doing his best to please her.**

**She lay down across one of the benches, slightly bending her legs so as not to expose herself. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Derek had told them all to relax that day, to enjoy a little down time before that night. Peter had been adamant about her continuing her normal routine, but Lydia was just tired. She was tired of the madness, of the constant fear of being hunted. Today was going to be about her and Jackson, nothing else. To assure them she'd meant it, she'd texted them all after receiving Jackson's text, then took out her battery. They could handle things without her couldn't they?**

**Her nose twitched and she sat up giddily, her imaginary tail wagging. Jackson stood under the last arch, wearing the black suit she'd bought him with the red tie. His hair was gelled back, accenting his cheekbones beautifully. His eyes seemed darker than usual, but sparkled in the way they only did for her. Flower petals were falling behind him, the sun's rays slanting at just the right angle to capture his perfect features. He took a step toward her, his teeth gleaming in the light. Lydia swallowed loudly; he was definitely up to something…and she was not complaining.**

**Jackson met her in the middle, his arm slipping around her waist, lightly pulling her against him. He pressed his lips softly against her lips, before placing smaller ones along her neck and jaw. Lydia couldn't help but sigh into his touch. He was never this gentle, but then again neither was she. She inhaled deeply, drinking in his scent and unconsciously thanking Peter for giving her that particular sense. It was making her head spin, her body going crazy. **

**With much difficulty, she pulled away, meeting his eyes determinedly. "Jackson what's this all about?" She couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her lips. He didn't say anything, just swayed in place with her, clinging in ways he'd never done before. His face was buried in her neck, nuzzling the soft flesh. She purred softly, enjoying the sensation. He was scenting her; she knew that from the way her scent mingled with his to create a unique aroma. She leaned her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They continued to sway in the spot, his hands running through her hair. **

**He stopped and stepped out of her embrace, but keeping their hands intertwined. "You're beautiful Lydia." He said in that husky voice he used whenever his emotions choked him up. Her skin flushed and she looked away. "I never did apologize for how I treated you before. I -" **

**Lydia pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't, just don't. I forgave you a long time ago Jackson, so let's move on from that." She slowly removed her finger and leaned in for another kiss, but he held her away. She couldn't help the spike in her heart, the fear pooling in her stomach. He wasn't breaking up with her was he? Not after everything they'd been through, after everything he'd said? **

**His eyes widened at the sudden change in emotions. "Oh! No, Lydia it's not what you think. I would never hurt you like that." He quickly bundled her against his body. She relaxed in his arms, but looked up at him curiously. **

"**Then what's going on? You said it was something important…" she let the sentence hang, waiting for him to say anything. He grinned and ran a hand nervously through his hair. He never did that, unless it was something that'd really piss her off. **

"**After…after I became a werewolf and Derek explained to me why I became a kanima in the first place, I decided to find out exactly who I was. The kanima is a creature that doesn't have a place, or a past. I- I did some digging about my adoption…" He ducked his head and took a steadying breath. Lydia gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth.**

"**You found your real parents? Congratulations! I'm so proud of you Jackson. But…why aren't you…?" She mulled it over in her head and felt the light bulb click. She dropped his arms and steeped away from him, anger clawing in her chest. "You're leaving. You're packing up and running off to meet them." She stamped her foot and turned away, feeling her eyes sting with tears. **

"**Yes, I'm leaving Lydia. But that's not what this is about. This is about us." He reached for her; she shrugged his hand off. **

"**Don't lie to me anymore. This is not about us Jackson. You know better than I do that this is not about whether or not you love me. I know you do. What I don't understand is why you'd do this. What if they want you to stay? W-will you stay with them?" Her hands were balled into fists, claws sinking into her palms. She tried concentrating on controlling the heat, but her mind was clouded with hurt and rejection.**

**Strong hands clenched her upper arms. She snarled viciously, her canines ripping through her gums. Jackson's mouth smashed against hers, working furiously to swallow her anger, which was now dissolving into sobs. She couldn't lose him, not when she just got him back. Whatever she may have said or done he was hers and no one else's. She crushed him with her arms, her nails digging into his shoulders. He winced but didn't growl. **

"**Lydia Martin, you're too smart for your own good. Yes, I'm leaving, but I'm coming back. I just need to know why they gave me away, what I left behind. I need to know, not just for me, but for us. I-I love you more than anything in this world Lydia. I brought you here because you are the only thing I stand to lose tonight, the only thing I'd die to protect."**

"**Then why am I here? Couldn't you have said this over the phone?" She couldn't stop the tear flow. **

**At this he laughed. "It wouldn't have been as romantic." She looked at him, bewildered. He held her stand as he sunk onto the marble ground, his eyes large and vulnerable. Lydia's heart stopped in her chest. She watched in astonishment as he pulled out a velvet box, covered in yellow ribbons. Her breath hitched, her world swaying. Surely he wasn't-.**

"**Like I said you are the most important thing to me. I don't want to ever see you with anyone else, not now, not ever. I know we're young; I know your feelings for me might change. All I'm asking Lydia is if you'll wait for me. Wait until I come back to you. Can you do this? Will you wait for me?" He untied the ribbon and opened the box. The ring was silver with gold bands winding around the base. The central diamond was surrounded by blue sapphires; the smaller ones by green emeralds. She examined it closer, almost dropping it in shock. Carved into the diamonds were the exact date they'd met, gotten together, and were both officially in the pack. There was an inscription in neat little scrawl: ****my love- never forgets. **

**Lydia was shaking as he slipped the ring onto her finger. Jackson stood and looked deeply into her eyes. "Say it Lydia. Say you'll wait for me." **

**Somehow, through the madness that was in her head she found her voice. "I'll wait until I die."**

* * *

**The cemetery was empty, save a few stragglers here and there. There was something strangely peaceful about being there among the dead, the souls at rest. Fresh flowers and decoration dotted the worn gravestones. Massive white clouds rolled across the sky, periodically casting the area in shadows and a light breeze. **

**The boy crouched in front of a fresher headstone, fingers tracing the letters. His face was darkened, eyes moist and downcast, lips pursed. He ignored the people milling around, the curious on lookers. They knew who he was, who he used to be anyway. They knew whose grave this was, what the man had done for years. He didn't care what they may have thought, nor did he particularly want to know. He had known his father before the abuse had started, before things had changed. Isaac sighed, wishing more than anything that his father was still alive. **

**Unlike the others, he didn't have anyone else to lose if this turned south. The pack had become his only family, the only people who cared what happened to him. He hadn't expected to allow anyone else into his life after his brother had passed away and his father became a monster. People asked why he had scars, why he sometimes had an unnatural limp or bruise. He played it off easily, because no one cared enough to dig deeper. He really loved his father and deep down he knew the man felt the same; he couldn't give the man up, couldn't lose him. But Derek had sought him out specifically, had rescued him from the torment. It had seemed too good to be true that anyone would come to his defense, would risk it all to save him. Then the pack had welcomed him into the fold without question; Scott had even mentored him from the beginning. They were his family, his friends; they were all he had left.**

**Isaac pushed from the ground, stretching his hands high above his head. His muscles loosened and popped. He shoved his hands in his pocket and walked away from the grave, swallowing down his longing for the past; the past didn't guarantee happiness. He kept his head down, ignoring the other mourners around him, not wanting to draw attention to himself or really converse with anyone. His sensitive ears picked up a few conversations, but otherwise the cemetery was mute. These people who longed for the dead to return had no idea what they were really asking for, or what it could bring.**

**He was so absorbed in his own thoughts he didn't hear or see the bike in time. The front wheel slammed into his side, catching him off balance and sending him crashing to the ground. The backend spun and tipped the bike over onto its side, trapping the rider beneath. He winced as he assessed the cut on his shin and gaping hole in his jeans. Now he had to get out of there before anyone noticed his skin healing. He scrambled to his feet, but stopped, eyes on the stranger. She sat there rubbing her auburn hair and glaring up at him with hazel eyes. She was definitely pretty, prettier than Lydia even (though he'd never admit that; the chick was scary). Her hair fell to her shoulders in gently curled layers; her caramel colored skin was flawless, except for a tiny mole below her right eye; she had long lashes that swept over her cheekbones when she blinked; she was about his height, but curvy. He felt a lump form in his throat and his chest tightening. His palms moistened, throat suddenly becoming dry. Girls were dangerous.**

**She stood, fixing him with an icy glare. "Do you mind watching where you're going next time? That actually hurt." **

**He was startled by how threatening she sounded even with a soft voice. It reminded him of the wind chimes his mother used to have outside the house and how when the wind blew he'd sit outside and listen to them twinkle in awe. This was the same thing. "I-I'm sorry. I'm Isaac by the way." He extended his hand to her, biting the inside of his cheek nervously. **

**She narrowed her eyes at it suspiciously, but grasped it all the same. She had a firm handshake and an unwavering gaze. He was captivated. "Nice to run into you I guess. I'm Iris." Her frosty features melted into a glowing smile. She had dimples in both her cheeks that softened her face. His heart skipped a beat, his breathing quickening. This girl had to be the most beautiful girl in town. He inhaled gently, capturing her scent. She smelled of honey, cinnamon, and magnolias; it took him back to when his mother baked during Christmas and imported fresh flowers for Easter. **

**Iris giggled and bashfully pulled her hand from his. She allowed her fingertips to linger against his for a moment, but eventually dropped her hand to her side. Her cheeks had reddened a tad. "Ummm… yeah I guess I kind of over reacted a second ago."**

"**No, no, it's okay. I was a little too oblivious for my own good." He said hurriedly, hoping to draw the conversation along. Isaac felt the attraction to her, felt her curiosity about him; but she was guarded, playing it safe.**

**They were quiet for a minute, awkwardly looking about them. He wasn't sure what he wanted, but Iris had a grip on him already. If he could really get to talk to her…but he wasn't bold like Jackson to ask. He'd never been the ladies man, never had an actual girlfriend. To be honest he'd been fearful of the opposite sex, appreciating from a distance, but never approaching. Iris seemed different though. She scared him, but in a healthier way. He was afraid for her, which was strange considering they'd just met. She was a mystery, not putting her cards on the table and forcing him to stay on his toes. He enjoyed the sensation, but was also weary of it. He couldn't even gauze her emotions correctly, his own interfering. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead; he nonchalantly brushed them off.**

"**So I… I guess I should go then. See you around Isaac." She offered another dimpled grin, before picking up her bike. His wolf panicked at the sudden dismissal. He wasn't ready for her to leave yet, wasn't quite ready to say goodbye. **

"**Wait! Uh, how about we go get lunch sometime or see a movie?" he blushed, voice faltering under her intense scrutiny. Her eyebrows raised just a little closer to her hairline, but the smile remained fixated on her face. **

"**Sure thing; I live next door to Stiles Stilinski, just drop by and visit." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and pedaled away. Isaac waited until her heartbeat faded in the distance. His own heart fluttered in his chest, suddenly feeling warm. He just made a date with a girl completely out of his league. And she was perfect in every way. He briefly wondered if this was how Scott felt about Allison when they'd first met. If so…he had a lot more to lose than he'd thought.**

* * *

**Allison was certain that this was karma's way of getting her back for all that she'd done since moving to Beacon Hills. Her leg was on fire, wrapped in a heavy neon green cast-her choice- and her wrist was in a brace. She had bandages on her face, chest, and arms, though those would be off soon. Morphine dripped into her arm through the IV they had set up beside her bed, her heart monitor beeping steadily. It was hard to believe that she'd almost died, even though she'd subconsciously accepted that she would. She hadn't expected to beat the alpha at all, had expected her to finish the job and leave her for dead. **

**She traced her thumb over Scott's hand, watching him sleep. He had come overnight and had sat beside her ever since, watching diligently. It had gotten dicey when her father demanded only family be allowed in her room, but she'd shouted him down until he consented. She hadn't seen him since, and that was four days ago. Chris had to realize she wasn't a little girl anymore and therefore he could not get away with treating her like a child. She loved him to death, but the man was insufferable and prejudice. He still viewed the pack as evil creatures that would turn rabid and kill her one day. They had come to her rescue, had even exposed themselves to the sheriffs in order to protect her better. How could he look at them as monsters? They were human beings, gifted in supernatural ways, but still human. Did he expect her to turn them away? **

**Scott shifted positions, mumbling her name contentedly when he was comfortable. Allison marveled at how lucky she was to have him. He lay curled against her body protectively, but he himself looked as innocent as a child in sleep. You would never imagine he had risked his life numerous times, had battled horrors only told in stories. When he was awake he was always on edge, watching, waiting for an attack that never necessarily came. But in sleep you saw the boy beneath his man exterior. He looked like a puppy, so loveable and gentle. **

**She absently ran a hand through his hair, remembering when she'd first realized she loved him. It was that night in the school when Peter had trapped them all. He'd locked them in that classroom in order to keep the deranged alpha away. She'd watched him walk out of that room and saw her life walking away. It scared her more than anything to be in that situation when she was powerless to hold on to the person her life revolved around. So she'd broken up with him, hoping that would erase the feeling of being welded into the boy. The agony Scott had experienced was nothing compared to hers. Her insides were ripping apart trying to piece her heart back together. Every night she woke screaming from nightmares she played off as fear from that night, but it was a lie. In every dream she'd watched him walk away and no matter how much she pleaded for him to stay he locked her in that room and left her crumbling and bleeding. She'd even tried flirting with Jackson in hopes of pushing the emotions away, but if anything it made things worse. She found herself questioning his motives, not like she'd done with Scott; found herself looking into his green eyes and suddenly seeing Scotts milk chocolate ones; compared the way he hugged or talked to her against Scott's gentle kisses or reassuring words. It was after all of this she'd finally understood that she was in love. **

**Allison was no fool. She knew in her heart when she had crossed an invisible line, knew when she'd fallen so far there was no return. But with him…there was no limit. She continually ran him through, but he waited patiently for her to come back to her senses and was never bitter for it. It's as if he honestly couldn't dismiss a person from his life. He'd even accepted Peter, despite the hell he'd put them through. Scott truly was an honest, good hearted person. Was he a saint? Certainly not; he had done his fair share of bad deeds, but they had all been an effort to keep the ones he loved safe. She was lucky to have him all to herself. She was grateful he cared so much, for if he had walked away the last time and ended up with another girl…she would have succumbed to the pain killing her and die. **

**She bent forward and kissed his forehead. He purred in his sleep, snuggling closer. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" she whispered fondly.**

* * *

**Stiles was certain that things couldn't be better than they were at that moment. It wasn't everyday he got to lay with a hot alpha werewolf pinning him beneath his body. Had anyone told him a year ago that he'd be the mate of a werewolf he would have died laughing. Had they told him said alpha would be Derek-freaking hot-Hale he would have asked for whatever they were on. He'd never imagined in a million years he'd be attracted to a guy; sure he was persistent in trying to get Danny to admit he was attractive to gay guys, and yeah, maybe he offered to make out with Scott on occasion, but that had been harmless. He'd pined after Lydia for so long he couldn't fathom finding guys attractive, but then he'd met Derek. It wasn't his looks that captured his attention, though that did play a major part. It was the look in his eyes, the way he tried to hide the smoldering fire burning within his soul. Stiles had been drawn to it like a magnet, reading the brooding wolf while he'd done his best to keep it hidden. That wall was impenetrable with everyone else, but Stiles saw the chinks when they were alone, saw the real person under the surface. It was that man that Stiles had fallen for, that man was his.**

**He stared into the hazel eyes above him. They were watching him; clouded with an emotion he couldn't identify. It made his body flush with heat, his chest swelling. Would he ever get used to having Derek touch him? Probably not, every time their skin touched electric currents ran rampantly through his body. It was as if the wolf had some kind of control over him; he would argue with him all day, but otherwise he submitted to Derek's will. Had it been anyone else that would not have gone on very long; he was too free spirited and thick headed to be under someone else's thumb forever. But Derek was different; he just knew how to get his way. **

**Derek pressed their foreheads together, his hands cupping his face. Stiles swallowed, feeling the man's body pressing all too close against his. He silently prayed that he wouldn't notice the bulge forming in his pants, or the heat creeping into his face. His teenage hormones weren't helping the situation at all, as the man's mouth gently caressed his. He opened his mouth, inviting him in. Their tongues battled; his arms tight around Derek's shoulders. The man released his face and ran his hands down his body, stopping just at his hips and squeezing lightly. Stiles couldn't help the little moan that reached his lips. He pulled him tighter against him, until the wolf's weight was practically crushing him. **

**They had never gone farther than intense make out sessions, Derek adamant about protecting his virtue at all costs. Stiles was rather miffed that he was being the responsible one, considering that Stiles was currently a human member in a wolf pack. The man said it would be too dangerous for him until he had better control over his wolf; apparently he wasn't as stable around him. Yet despite his over protective instincts, the alpha had brought him to a reserved hotel just outside of the town so they could be alone. That screamed opportunity in Stiles' head. **

**They continued to kiss passionately, until Derek pulled back, breathing heavily and chuckling softly. "Stiles calm down. I know exactly what you're trying to do."**

**Stiles feigned innocence, smirking. "I have no idea what you are talking about. I'm just making out with my boyfriend."**

"**Yeah, your boyfriend who has made it clear that we are not having sex until you turn eighteen." He deadpanned. He raised an eyebrow as if daring Stiles to contradict him. Stiles sputtered for a moment, trying to find a way to wiggle out of the situation.**

"**Technically, I am a man, because part of my family is Jewish and they become men at thirteen sooo…..yeah I don't see the problem." **

**Derek rolled his eyes. "The problem is that a) your father is the sheriff and will therefore kill me, b) I'm an alpha werewolf who isn't as capable of controlling himself as you may think, and c) I don't want to claim you in that way until these alphas are gone." **

"**Ha! I knew you were scared of my dad. But dude seriously, why bring me out here if we weren't going to…" he let the sentence trail off, seeing the strange expression on Derek's face. **

"**I'm only doing it to keep you safe Stiles. I could really hurt you in the process. I could bite you accidently and then what? Besides, you're still young. In a year or so you'll be heading off to college and who knows what's going to happen."**

**Stiles felt his jaw drop. This had little to do with his father than it did that Derek was scared to be in a relationship. He was afraid that he would hurt Stiles or that Stiles would hurt him as Kate had done. It shouldn't have been that much of a shock, considering he had blamed himself for years, never telling a single soul his participation in the Hale fire. He was insecure, thinking that Stiles would move on, thinking that this was just a silly teenage crush that would fade over time. He furrowed his eyebrows and slapped him upside the head. "You really are a clueless bastard aren't you?"**

**Derek said nothing; just closed his eyes and looked away. Stiles ignored the hurt; Derek was still in pain, in doubt of his own feelings. That wasn't something that could be changed in a few short months. He tried a subtler approach. "Derek, I'm not Kate Argent. I would never hurt you or the pack. You guys are my family; you all mean more than anything else to me. Do you really believe that I or any of the others would leave you when we got the chance? We wouldn't because we **_**are**_** a family and need each other. Please stop blaming yourself for something that was out of your control." **

**He kissed Derek's cheek, no longer thinking about his fantasies and focusing instead on what was needed. Derek turned smoldering red eyes on him. He whined softly through his teeth, the sound breaking his heart. "Stiles…" then his lips were devouring Stiles with such intensity he lost his breath. Derek buried his head in his neck, nibbling along his skin. He growled deep in his chest, Stiles clinging on to him. The man's body was pressed so tightly against him he couldn't think straight. The wolf was so far gone; his hands sliding up his shirt, the warm hands pressed against his chest. Stiles mind was seriously frying, but he had to stop this before it went too far. Derek wasn't thinking clearly; and Stiles did not want his first time to be like this.**

"**Derek, stop. This isn't the time. Not when you're hurting." He gasped. Derek pulled back, looking at him quizzically. "But I thought…"**

**He shook his head. "It's not just about me. I'm not having sex with you if you don't trust yourself. I can wait dude, I have for about sixteen years now." **

**They looked at each other, Stiles trying to control his heart beat, Derek trying to reign in the inner wolf. Things weren't going to be easy, not yet at least. They would make it work though, of that he was certain. He was determined to make the wolf see that they all loved each other in weird ways, that they were family. If their relationship was going to go anywhere Derek had to let go of the past. Finally, Derek rolled off of him, but hugged him to his side. " You mean so much to me Stiles."**


	11. all hell breaks loose

Author's Notes: Hope the last chapter was enjoyable, but as a wise woman once said… back to the ACTION!

**Lydia bounced into the hospital room, eyes still sparkling with tears, face split in a grin. Scott threw her a bemused look and she ruffled his hair fondly, before waltzing over to Allison. The girl looked weary but excited to have female company for a change. Lydia sat on the bed and promptly began running a brush through the long hair; she firmly believed that though Allison had knocked on death's door she didn't have to look it. She may have been on guard duty, but girls had fun. **

"**Allison how do you feel? Did you and Scott have a good time?" she asked as her fingers braided the hair the way she wanted it.**

"**Yeah, he slept most of the time, but otherwise we had fun." The girl relaxed, trusting Lydia to not judge her. "I was thinking about everything that's happened and I just don't understand why he still cares so much." She shook her head. **

**Lydia smirked. "Scott is a lot of things. Oblivious? Hell yeah, no doubt about it. Loyal? Only Stiles could beat him in that category. Bitter? No; I've never seen him hold a grudge against anyone. Let me tell you a little secret Allison. That boy is probably the only one in the pack who never honestly hated you for a spell." **

**Allison ducked her head, cheeks burning. "I can understand why you guys did." She didn't say much else and Lydia continued braiding in the silence. There was no reason to discuss such dark topics anymore; the past was the past. Was she one of the ones who hated Allison for awhile? She wouldn't deny it, but she wouldn't say she was proud of it. The last few weeks had been hell on everyone, and though Allison had lost her mother her method of "venting" wasn't practical in Lydia's book. Still, the girl had been singled out and caught between her friends and her family, neither side really supportive but asking more and more. **

"**Well, we used to, but not anymore. In all honesty we all kind of resented each other because no one was being honest and we were scrambling around trying to put together pieces that never fit in the first place. Now though? Just look at us; always together and fighting over whom gets to protect you. Smile Allison, it's a new day…night, whatever." They laughed and settled in more comfortable positions on the cramped hospital bed, Lydia pulling her bag towards her. They pawed through the contents, giggling and chatting idly. Lydia reluctantly allowed her best friend to clean her face and apply a fresh coat of makeup, before returning the favor. She had just reached for the gray eye shadow when Allison snatched up her hand and examined it closely. She reddened as she turned her hand over and over, expecting the ring. Allison let it fall back to the bed, eyes locking onto Lydia's. The girls beamed at each other for a full minute before they hugged each other, squealing hysterically. **

"**Oh my God Lydia! When did this happen? How? What did he say? What did you say? Okay I know, stupid question, but STILL!" the words gushed from Allison's mouth, the girl batting away a few tears. **

**Lydia couldn't suppress the stinging in her eyes either as she cradled her hand to her chest. "He asked me to marry him today at the botanic gardens. It… it had to be the most amazing thing ever. I'd never thought I'd see the day when Jackson Whitmore would actually propose." **

"**When is it going to happen? I mean the whole pack has to be in on this! Does anyone else know?" Allison embraced her again, relishing in the fact that even amidst the drama.**

"**I'm not sure when anything is going to happen. He's…going away for a little while after things cool down around here. But, good news, my maid of honor will have complete control…with my guidance of course." Lydia offered her best smile, showing pearly white teeth. Allison's expression was comical; Lydia clutched her stomach as she tried to compose herself. They gushed over the idea that the two who appeared to never want to be bonded forever were actually going to get hitched. **

"**Does that mean I get to plan the bachelorette party too?" Allison giggled. **

"**Just make sure Stiles is one of the strippers. I have to have leverage to mock him mercilessly with." She snickered. They bantered a little while longer, throwing themselves into fits of laughter as they suggested which of the guys would be the third bridesmaid. This was easy; this was safe; this was what it felt like to be a teenager for once, without the nonsense. This was what it was like before her cell phone rang shrilly, startling them both, and things went to hell.**

* * *

**Stiles had made sure he was inside his house before the sun had touched the horizon. He'd checked the windows to be sure they were lined with mountain ash and wolfs bane. He'd called his dad, letting him know where he was, before shooting a text to the rest of the pack. He knew the only ones who would actually receive it would be Allison and Lydia, seeing as neither was of much use that night. All he could do now was prepare for tomorrow and hope they made it through the full moon. The alphas would be near unstoppable tonight; it would be a definite fight between Jackson, Boyd, and Isaac. The chances of those three surviving was slim at best. Erica, Peter, and some friends of the Argents were scouting possible locations the alphas could be hiding. He had been asked, no, commanded to stay away for one night, in case the alphas decided to attack. He could lay low for the night, but in the morning they wouldn't be able to shut him away. Scott and Derek were still unhappy about him participating, but Lydia had promised to neuter them if they tried to stop him.**

**Sighing, he climbed the stairs to his room, grateful that Phil wasn't there for once. The man had been surlier than he had ever seen him, sneering at him whenever he walked past or asking snide questions about the pack. He was going to have a long conversation with his father about new sleeping arrangements. He reached the landing and headed for his room, feeling a draft on his back. He looked over his shoulder, bewildered to see the man's bedroom door cracked. In all the time Phil had stayed there, never once did he leave that door opened. It was always under lock and key, even when he was in it. **

**Stiles shuffled his feet, biting his lip. He really shouldn't…it wasn't right considering he didn't even know the guy. Then again it could probably put all of their minds at ease if they found out more about him. He debated internally with himself, looking more and more constipated by the minute. Curiosity was his strongest suit, and he couldn't pass up such an opportunity. Breathing deeply he dashed madly across the hallway, snapping the door closed behind him. He flipped on the light and caught his breath, moving into the room. **

**It was like walking into a nightmare. The walls were papered with pictures of him and the pack, some with the wolves transformed. A few were of them during the covert training sessions or their meeting the other night. The majority of them were of him and Lydia. He shivered, heart pounding. This wasn't right at all. Who was this guy? Why was he doing this? He moved to the desk, stacked with neat little papers and a digital camera. Hands trembling, he picked it up and went through the memory. He felt sick to his stomach, the horror weighing him down like bricks. There were hundreds of them, some even before they had become an official pack. How long had he been watching them? There were even photos of Allison's attack. He had been there…watching her die and taking pictures. He continued to look through the camera until he came upon the more recent ones. His heart turned to ice, acid in his veins. Those pictures were from that day; Lydia and Jackson; Isaac at the cemetery with his neighbor-okay **_**that**_** deserved investigation; Scott and Allison at the hospital; and finally him and Derek. **

**This guy had been watching them all. He knew them, knew their plans. But why? Why would he stalk them like this? What could he gain from it? Stiles' chest was constricting, head fogging. No, he couldn't be having a panic attack, not now. His body was shaking so bad he dropped the camera, breaking it in half. He needed to get to his room, he needed to relax, needed…Derek. That's who he needed, wanted right now. He stumbled to the door, leaning his head against the wall, steadying himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, recalling the techniques they'd worked on during training. 1) Think of something calming, something that brings comfort. He thought about his mother and how she had loved to sing and dance as she cleaned with him. 2) Breathe, passing out is the last thing that needs to happen. He took long deep breaths, mimicking a drowning man. He waited until he was certain he could make it out of the room without going into shock before pushing off the wall. His hand crumbled a faded photograph and looked at it curiously. It was a grainy photo of Phil and…the alphas. **

**He reeled back, frantically pulling his phone from his pocket. Phil had to be the hybrid that wanted Lydia; that was the only explanation why the others couldn't sense he was a wolf. He punched in her phone number, everything making sense. That was how they'd found Allison, how they kept finding and attacking them when they least expected it. Phil was keeping them informed, which meant the alphas already knew about their plan. Damn, they had to get out of there, had to get out now. He listened to it ring, fear choking him. They would be going after Allison and Lydia that night, him too if he wasn't already prepared. **

**She finally picked up the phone, sounding concerned and irritated. "Stiles what's going on? Is everything-?"**

"**Lydia get Allison and get the hell out of there! Phil was an alpha, he's a hybrid. Try and get in contact with the wolves and rendezvous at Deaton's. The alphas know the plan, it's a trap. Hurry and watch your back, he's been watching us." He snapped the phone shut and barreled into the hallway. **

**He darted down the staircase, tripping a little bit as he went, but managing not to face plant on the wooden floor. He snatched up his keys and ran for his jeep. In the distance, he heard the first howl, followed soon after by seven others. At least the wolves were aware that something was amiss. He jammed the key into the lock, twisting it just as a sharp pain sent him to his knees. Through bleary knees he made out the electric green eyes that were pulsing and not so normal canines. He panted, the man's serrated claws piercing his neck and bringing him eye level. He squirmed in the grasp vainly, this guy was an alpha; he didn't stand a chance. The guy smirked evilly, digging his claws in deeper. **

**Stiles grunted and rammed his body into the alpha's torso. He gripped his arm tightly, twisting it as he folded in on himself. He used the momentum to flip the man over his shoulder like Derek had taught him. He didn't waste any time watching the results. He sprinted down the street, grateful that they'd been pushed to train hard. His lungs expanded with the effort he was using, every breath drawing in stinging cold air. His arms and legs pumped furiously, never breaking stride. A blood curling snarl made him yelp, but he didn't slow down or look back; he knew what was coming for him. He rounded the corner, slipping just a little. He was breathing hysterically now, praying for a miracle, anything to save him. Apparently, for them miracles were not an option. **

**He heard the air whistle before he felt the agony. The wolf grabbed his arm, wrenching it back and out of its' socket. He heard the pop and screamed. The wolf held him by the neck against the ground, furious green eyes holding his gaze. "Did you really think I'd let you get away that easily?" Stiles spit in the man's face. **

"**Derek will rip you apart." He snarled viciously. The alpha roared with laughter. It made the hairs on his neck stand up. **

"**Before or after you're dead?" The alpha dragged him to his feet and slung his body over his shoulder. Stiles felt his lids go heavy, the pain in his arm searing. He knew even as he passed out that he was going into shock. He just prayed to God that Lydia and Allison were okay.**

* * *

**Lydia threw her sweater over Allison, body vibrating with fear. She'd sent out the message to the others as best as she could. She hadn't heard from Stiles since the phone call, but she was scared for him. He had uncovered something they'd never considered, something she of all people should have realized. Peter had told her that first night that the other hybrid was like her, that he wasn't exactly alive, but he wasn't exactly dead. She should have been paying close attention. She dismissed her qualms and focused on her mission. Stiles had said to get Allison to Deaton's where the others would be.**

**Deep down she wanted to sob. This was going to hell and fast. They hadn't anticipated the group being separated when the alphas attacked, hadn't even considered it an option. But here they were; none able to reach the others. She whined through her teeth as she handed Allison her crossbow and hunter gear. The girl hobbled on her leg, but managed to get it comfortable. Lydia didn't feel right taking Allison into another battle when she wasn't even fully recovered yet. The alphas would slaughter her without hesitation, her being a hunter and all. She breathed and looked at the ring on her hand forlornly. "I told you I'd wait until I died." she murmured. Jackson would have to forgive her this time. She would die before she allowed that hybrid to claim her. It seemed as if tonight would be that night. **

**She turned to Allison. "Listen to me closely. Ms. McCall's car is third level up. Stiles had it laced with mountain ash and there's wolfs bane in the trunk. You get there and you get out of here do you hear me? I'm going to distract the alphas while you get there; they want me alive so mostly they'll toy with me. Don't try to be a hero Allison okay? If they catch you they will rip your throat out on the spot, no torture included. Don't come back for me. Promise me."**

**Allison gaped at her before her face contorted in rage. "Lydia no! No, I'm not leaving you. I can fight, I can help!" She frantically grabbed her shoulders. Lydia shook them off. **

"**Allison you are going to leave me behind and save yourself. I love you, you're my best friend. We can discuss your involvement in the fight later, but for now you have to do as I say." She pleaded with her eyes, trying to make the girl understand.**

"**What about Stiles? He doesn't have anyone with him right now Lydia! What if an alpha gets to him before he gets to us?" her voice was shrill. **

**Lydia swallowed the haunting thought. "Stiles is smart. He's gotten out of tougher situations using just his wit when the others were too selfish to help him. He'll be fine, I promise."**

**The girls stared at each other for what seemed like the last time. Finally Allison nodded and Lydia swept her up bridal style. She took off out of the room, heading for the rear staircases. She concentrated on her senses, hearing the two alphas tracking them. She kicked the door to the stairwell open and leaped up the stairs. Allison began shooting a volley of arrows behind them, covering their backs. She heard a few thunk against flesh, heard the furious growls of the wolves, but she kept going. They stumbled into the parking garage. Lydia promptly deposited Allison on her feet and wheeled on the two wolves, teeth bared. **

**She smelled Allison's indecision, craning her neck around and glowering at her. The girl hesitated, but limped over to the silver vehicle. She returned her attention to the alphas. Both were young males, no older than fifteen. They were corrupting the children; they were sick and twisted. The boy with the sandy blonde hair lunged, sinking his teeth into her forearm. She growled and rammed her elbow into the back of his neck, simultaneously slamming her knee into his chest. His ribs splintered at the impact and he howled in misery. The albino boy came to his comrade's defense, forcing her into a headlock. She twisted in his grasp plunged her hand into his abdomen. He roared and sliced quickly, opening a gash on her thigh. She threw him off, slipping into a crouch and letting her wolf take over.**

**The three circled each other, both of them looking for a way to get at her. She pounced, grabbing the albino by the throat and hurtling him into the nearest cement pillar. It cracked at the impact, some of it raining down on his head. The blonde boy came at her, swiping with his claws and catching her in the cheek. Her head snapped to the side, stars dancing before her eyes. She shook it off as he struck again, this time landing a punch in her stomach. The air whooshed from her lungs as she flew back and hit an old convertible. She staggered to her feet, blood dripping down her forearm. **

**The albino was murdering her with his eyes. "You are a strong little hybrid. You will make a great addition to our ranks." **

"**Go to hell." She dashed at them, roundhouse kicking him in the face. His nose crunched beneath her shoe, the blood spurting out. He fell backwards in a daze. His partner caught her around the middle and body slammed her to the ground, pinning her there. She struggled, but he pushed her head down onto the ground, the albino flopping over her legs. She snarled, snapped at the blonde boy's hands. They jeered, marveling over the prize. **

"**What a looker we have here, don't you agree Kenny? Kenny?" The albino looked up at Kenny. The blonde was sputtering like a fish out of water, clutching at his chest. A dark red stain was spreading over his heart where a bullet had left a gaping hole. His body hit the floor with a solid thud. The boy moaned in agony, his body convulsing. Lydia used the distraction to flip over and drive her hand through the albino's chest, her hand closing over his heart. He looked at her in shock before she tore it out. The red from his eyes faded, revealing pale blue ones. So young, but so evil. **

**She crawled away from the dying duo, looking around for the source of the bullets. Her eyes landed on the three people advancing towards her and she felt her jaw drop. Chris Argent, Mr. Deaton, and their school counselor stepped into the moonlight, each armed, each poised to kill. **


	12. poison

**Stiles gasped, eyes flying open. His head was throbbing, but that quailed in comparison to the searing agony from his left arm. He surveyed his surroundings, heart beating furiously. He was in a small dusty room, most likely a cellar. There was a single flight of stairs leading to a metal door he was certain was locked. There was also a tiny window filtering on the moon; it was too high for him to reach. From the way the light came in he guessed they were northwest of his house, putting them in Jackson's general area. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, dread twisting his gut. He didn't know what the alphas could possibly want with him, but he had to get out of there. **

**He carefully climbed to his feet, swaying a little. He panted the exertion it placed on his body somewhat overwhelming. He tip toed to the staircase, waiting only a moment before ascending. He could hear voices on the other side of the door, laughter in some cases. He pressed his ear to the door, trying to decipher what they were saying. He picked out Phil's voice quickly, his hatred towards the man only intensifying. He'd played them all, including his father. Stiles would be worried, but he knew the sheriff was safe at the station. He returned his attention back to the conversations, carefully picking out individual voices. He counted silently in his head, trying to figure out exactly how many wolves were there. He choked, reaching sixteen total; his pack would be outnumbered two to one. **

**Breathing deeply, he descended the stairs retreating to the darkest corner of the room. With his good arm, he rummaged in his pockets, praying the alphas hadn't confiscated his phone. His fingers closed around the tiny silver object and he blew a sigh of relief. He flipped it open, the little blue light illuminating his face. He went straight to his contact list, scrolling through until he found the numbers he needed. His index finger pressed the call button, only to have the device snatched from his hand. Startled he cringed into the corner, angry red eyes scrutinizing him. The alpha snapped the phone in half, leering down at him. **

"**My mistress is anxious to meet you." He gripped his good arm and half dragged half marched him out of the cellar. The alphas stopped their chatter and turned a volley of glowing red- save Phil- eyes on him. He flushed under their weighted gaze. There were only two females in the room and they turned their noses up at him disdainfully. A few others were whispering to one another, sizing him up. He hoped they couldn't smell the fear rolling off of him like a pungent cloud. One stocky guy with a killer buzz cut stepped in front of him. He grabbed his throat sniffing roughly at his neck. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop his heart from leaping out of his chest. The man finally released him and snickering, rejoined his friends. **

**He half expected to be torn apart right then and there, but they simply watched him. His captor pushed him to his knees and melted in with the others. Stiles swallowed thickly, his eyes on the red head that appeared before him. Her arms were crossed over her petite frame, but she donned a wicked smirk accompanied by a malignant glint in her eyes. "My, my…so cute. I adore your eyes Stiles. They really suit you." He said nothing in response, so she continued. "My name is Isabella, alpha of the werewolves. I do apologize about your arm, but you brought that upon yourself." She shrugged, the smile never leaving her face. He hated her with a passion. **

"**Whatever you're planning, you won't get away with it. Derek is going to find you and rip your head off." **

**The grin wavered. "Your little boyfriend won't have to wait very long cutie. We were going to pay him a little visit tonight. I'm bored with this game, so it's time to put away my toys for good."**

"**What do you want from me then? I won't tell you anything, surely you know that." He cringed as she crouched, beside him. The red left her eyes and he was startled to see the brilliant blue cat eyes. She was breathtakingly beautiful, but young. She couldn't have been much older than he was. Her slender hands gently grasped his injured arm and neck. His eyes widened, but he didn't get to say anything before she jerked her wrists and his arm popped back into place. He yelped at the brief spasm of pain, but bit back a full scream. Satisfied she stood.**

"**Oh I'm well aware that you won't betray your friends…not willingly at least. We alphas have been…experimenting with new ways to make our play toys submissive. Phil concocted a special little something just for you. You'll want to kill whomever I send you after my little pet."**

**He scrambled back, but didn't get far before two sets of hands roughly pulled him to his feet. He struggled in their grasp. "I would never hurt them, never." **

**Leah cackled darkly. "Sweetheart, the madness will cloud over your pathetic feelings for that excuse of a pack. And you will help me whether you like it or not. Don't struggle, darling, I don't want this to hurt." She motioned to Phil and the man stepped forward, a syringe in his hand. It was filled with dark red liquid with a black substance floating around in it. He tugged against his captors, though rationally he knew it wouldn't do any good. Phil got in his face, leering at him. **

"**I'm going to enjoy watching this Stiles. If you survive, maybe I get to keep you." He chuckled and seized his right wrist exposing the crescent bite mark. He shook his head in horror.**

"**Phil stop! Stop, don't do this." He pleaded working harder than ever to detach his arm from the hybrid alpha. The man's sneer only widened as he jabbed the needle into his skin. **

**Acid shot into his veins. It corroded his tissue, leaving a fiery path in its wake. Stiles bellowed in excruciating agony, dropping to the floor and writhing. The poison filled his lungs, making it difficult to draw in sufficient air. He began foaming at the mouth, his heart pounding too fast to me normal. He curled into a fetal position, biting so hard on his bottom lip he tasted the metallic tang of blood. His vision was graying around the edges, the center tinged in red. He felt his fingernails extending, his teeth sharpening to lethal points. He howled, feeling the poison twist into his mind, strangling his memories, twisting and distorting them. He closed his eyes, trying to fight the madness, to fight the sudden bloodlust he was craving. He thought about Derek, about his touch, about everything they'd been through since they first met; all to no avail. **

**Stiles stopped twitching, just lay there, the venom finishing its job. He could feel the raging heat, the madness that Leah had spoken of. He wanted blood, he wanted to crush and maim the bodies around him. He snarled low in his chest, heaving off of the floor into a crouch. Leah looked absolutely amazed, like a child on Christmas morning. She dropped to her knees looking him over imploringly. She reached her hand out cautiously, feeling his muscles, stroking his face. He wanted nothing more than to snatch her head from her shoulders. Stiles gasped shaking his head, his vision returning to normal, but his body still controlled by the madness. **

"**I-I won't hurt them, not now, not ever. They'll figure out a way to cure this…and then I'm going to kick your ass." **

**The smile brightened. She clutched his chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Now, now my little pet. You must be nice to me. I want you to do something for me because I am your alpha." Her eyes darkened and he whined through his teeth. He wanted to resist her power, but he submitted, bowing his head. She rubbed his neck soothingly. "You won't be like this long Stiles. I like you human; this is just until your mission is complete. Does that sound nice?" she cooed. **

**No, it was horrible! He would not be her bitch. "Yes mistress." **

"**Good boy. We are going to destroy a pack of wolves do you understand? Your part is very important so you must do it right." She made sure she held his gaze. Stiles knew what was coming, wanted to defy her, fight back, anything, but whatever they did to him had him at her mercy; he couldn't say no. "I want you to kill Derek Hale."**


	13. fire

**It was as if history was repeating itself; as if the flames that had engulfed his childhood home were awakening from hell to consume all that he had left. He could hear the high pitched screams of his mother, the terrified wails of his cousins as they clung to their dying parents. He could taste the thick smoke as well as smell the despair permeating the air. His limbs felt as if they were being torn apart muscle by muscle, bones cracking into shards that pierced his organs. He remembered Laura's cool and collected demeanor as she commanded him to run, to get the hell out of there. **

**They'd ran, smelling the familiar scents of hunters; but only one stood out to him that night, only one sent him into panic and a self loathing depression that lasted for years afterward. The grief, the guilt, the bitterness had weighed him down, had morphed him into the man he was months ago. He trusted no one, had developed a shell to push anyone away, to protect those he loved from the disease of self hate. That fire that had destroyed everything had occurred exactly seven years ago that night, and now the flames were there, stealing everything from him yet again. **

**After his family had died he'd been shattered, broken but reparable. This time however he knew there would not be any pieces left to repair him with; there would be no man, woman, or child that could ever resurrect the corpse he would become if they lost Stiles. He would die with his mate, he would cease to exist. There would no longer be a Hale pack; Scott could take the position if he wanted it. Never before had he felt so empty, so utterly and entirely desolate. A void was already beginning to hollow out his chest, scraping the deepest cavities of his heart and lungs, suffocating him. He had never felt this way and prayed he never would again. **

**He growled, his wolf thirsting for blood. He breathed heavily, looking into the glass case at his reflection. He did not recognize the man before him, nor did he want to. The man's eyes were on fire, vibrantly sparking with every inhale. His features were contorted with barely contained rage; fur and fangs completely visible. **

**He continued looking in the glass case, eyeing his pack. Dr. Deaton was attending to Lydia, Jackson at her side. He was proud of her for handling those alphas like a full grown wolf, but also furious that she had not thought to be with Stiles that night. Allison was curled on Scott's lap, head resting on his shoulder. He rubbed the small of her back, face uplifted towards the ceiling in deep thought. Derek wanted nothing more than to strangle the boy; his best friend was in the hands of monsters and here he was coddling his obviously well protected girlfriend. Boyd, Peter, Isaac, and Erica were guarding the doors, ignoring the group of hunters that stood just in the doorway. All together, they had about twenty four people, granted most human, but it wasn't enough. These were alpha wolves who knew how to obliterate packs and level cities.**

**Scott began tapping his foot against the floor, humming to himself. It reminded him painfully of his endangered mate. He clenched his teeth to fight down the fury strangling his common sense and squeezed his eyes closed. The noise vibrated in his eardrums, growing louder and louder. He felt it before the snap, felt the rush of heat through his limbs. He roared and hurled his fist into the cabinet. Allison squeaked, but he could only focus on controlling his breathing and the plinking of glass against the concrete floor. The room grew silent, Chris pausing in the layout of the plan. The temperature dropped twenty degrees and he could feel all eyes on him. Scott was the first to speak.**

"**You really have no one to blame but yourself Derek. You knew what it would do to him, what it would mean…"**

**Derek turned to his beta, ready and willing to rip his throat out. "Don't," he said simply. **

**Scott vehemently shook his head. When he finally met his eyes, Derek could see the tears, the red puffiness, and the tortured soul within. This was hurting Scott more than he'd let on; the boy was a shitty friend and he knew it, accepted it, but he cared for Stiles, had since they were children. "No, Derek. You were wrong for claiming him in the first place. You knew they were after us Derek, just us. He didn't have to get that deeply involved, but once you decided he was your mate they made a plan. This was a game and now they hold all the cards. You screwed up Derek, and now Stiles will pay for it."**

**He refused to accept the words as truth. He advanced upon the beta, prepared to kill him without hesitation. The last time someone had paid for his mistakes everyone he knew had been charred until they were unrecognizable husks of burned flesh. Allison stood, hands raised in front of her, eyes pleading with him. **

**He paused in his tracks, clenching his fists at his side. Scott was on his feet as well, eyes flashing gold. "Allison move out of the way."**

**She looked at both of them incredulously, eyes larger than life. "Derek, Scott, please calm down. Fighting isn't going to help." She turned wildly to her father. "Dad do something." **

**The man made to enter the room, but Erica thrust her arm out, blocking his path. He wrinkled his nose at the limb, as if it were infected. Erica's eyes were pale gold, her body trembling with the sudden tension in the air. "I don't think so."**

"**Excuse me child, but I need to assist my daughter. I will use force if necessary." Two men stepped up behind Chris, cracking their knuckles. **

"**Give me a reason to snap your pathetic body in half Argent, just give it to me." She snarled viciously. **

**Boyd threaded an arm around her waist slightly pulled her away from the doorway. Chris nodded curtly, taking a confident step into the room. Peter unfroze from the corner he occupied, immediately stepping in the hunter's path. "I advise you not to get in the middle of that." **

"**I think I can handle Hale and Scott. Step aside." He made to step around the man, but the man caught his elbow, wolfed out. The other rookies pulled out shot guns and aimed at Peter. Jackson snarled and left Lydia's side. In a blink of an eye he had one of the hunter's pressed against the wall, crushing his windpipe. The other hunters jumped into action, cramming into the tiny room, weapons loaded and ready. **

**Derek and Scott unfroze from their position and rushed to their pack mates' defense. Deaton paused in his work, eyes flitting between the hunters and werewolves; Allison had her body plastered against the far wall, hand clasped over her mouth fearfully. The wolves were transformed, slipping into a synchronized formation, each poised to spring. The hunters cocked their guns, lining up their shots. **

**All eyes were on Peter and Chris, waiting for the one move that would start the apocalypse. The two were squaring off, fixing each other with icy glares. **

"**I think…it would be in everyone's best interest if you remove your hand from my arm Hale." **

"**Call off your hunters Argent." Peter replied coolly. They were non- relenting, neither giving an inch. **

**The wolves began to growl; Derek could feel his wolf just below the surface. He felt his muscles expanding, the rush of heat to his limbs. The others felt it too and were trembling with the energy he was radiating. The clock ticked and as if in slow motion, the first brave hunter placed his finger on the trigger, aimed directly at Peter's heart. **

"**ENOUGH!" Lydia bellowed. Her voice had dropped an octave, reverberating with malice. Everyone in the room turned to her, startled. **

**She was standing on the metal table, towering over all of them. The light caught her face at just the right angle, making it appear as if her head was on fire and her eyes burning gold. **

"**You all are pathetic dumbasses; enough of the stupid fighting. Do you honestly think that ANY of you are helping the situation?" **

"**Lydia-" Scott started, straightening out of his crouch. **

"**Shut the hell up McCall. You have a lot of nerve to tell anyone off. You are the one that has ignored him since the very beginning, since you were first bitten. You think we don't all see it? You blame **_**him**_** for your being a werewolf; you always secretly have. And to get him back what did you do? You screwed around with a girl, leaving him to run around behind you cleaning up your shit. He's always been there for you, even when you didn't deserve it Scott. Because of you he felt worthless, like he had to prove himself to even earn your attention. Now look what happened. He thought he could take on a freaking alpha like his idiotic best friend who only reprimands but never actually helps him." **

**There was a stunned silence. Lydia lithely climbed off the table. Erica straightened, body still vibrating with unresolved tension. "You have no right to-" **

"**Erica, I understand you think you are the shit now, but please honey, shut up and grow up. I can honestly say everyone liked you better before you became a wolf." **

"**Why, because I was weak and pathetic?" she spat. **

"**Because you were actually human, you were actually a person. I can't stand to be in your presence now; it's disgusting what you've become. Even I'm not as shallow as you are. But what makes it all funny is that you don't even believe it. You're still the scared little epileptic girl from around the corner. You hate yourself so much that you put off this whole slutty façade, hoping we'll accept you. Grow up." Lydia stormed. Erica gaped at her like a fish out of water; her bottom lip trembled as she sputtered, trying to form an adequate retort. **

**The people in the room were appalled at her rant, all losing their tense positions. A few of the hunters backed out of the room, lowering their weapons as they went. Peter lowered his hand, fixing the young hybrid with an appraising look. **

**Derek was biting back the urge to reprimand the girl for stepping out of line, to punish her for the blatant disrespect she was displaying. He knew his reaction was only because of the full moon. The girl turned to him and he matched her furious stare boldly. **

**She walked until she was close enough for their chests to touch. He listened to her heartbeat, surprised to find no trace of fear behind the determined exterior. "Derek I know you're hurting, but you have to stop the self pity. Stiles needs you to be one hundred percent on the ball. You may not give a damn what any of us may think or say, but you do care about him. If you want to save him before it's too late, you have to steel your nerves, straighten your spine. If you're going to do it, do it for him." **

**She stepped away, walking into Jackson's waiting embrace. Allison shakily dropped her hand from her mouth, numbly walking until her hand slipped into Scott's. Scott stepped until his left side was pressed along Isaac, who in turn leaned against Boyd. The teenager adjusted his hold on Erica. She sniffled and reached out until her palm pressed against her alpha's shoulder blades. **

**Peter hung back, watching the pack embrace each other. Chris narrowed his eyes at his daughter, but otherwise said nothing. He huffed and stomped from the room, his hunter party watching him warily. **

**Derek was still looking at Lydia, more surprised than he had been in years. Her words were cutting, but sincere. She was certain what she was saying was nothing but fact, that by her bluntness she would see action. It reminded him of Laura, how she'd been ever since the fire. Again he felt a dull ache in his chest, but he swallowed it away. Lydia may have gone overboard with Scott and Erica, (or dead on the bulls eye), but she was right; Stiles was all that mattered. **

**He waited until he calmed down enough for his muscles to deflate, for his breathing to steady. He craned his neck, his eyes sweeping over his pack. They met his eye resolutely and he knew at that moment they all thought the same thing: they **_**would **_**stand together. He sighed and turned to Chris. "What's the plan?" **

**The man nodded, but before he could speak several shrill howls split the air. They tensed, turning and looking at each other. Lydia growled in her chest, stepping out of Jackson's arms. The wolves allowed themselves to transform yet again, only this time they awaited Derek's instruction. Peter joined him, face placid, though body humming with energy. The hunters gathered their weapons, touching foreheads in what Derek could only describe as a farewell gesture. They all knew it was time, time to either live or die.**

"**Let's go." He snarled, eyes darkening to red as dark as the blood coursing through his veins.**

* * *

**The sky was cloudless, the pale red and gold moon standing brilliantly against a black canvas. A thick white fog rolled sluggishly over the pavement, whispering over their feet. Over head an owl hooted forlornly before taking flight, its' wings thrumming on their ear drums. The wind whistled softly, whipping the girl's hair. The air was humid, the level of testosterone in the air palpable; even the females seemed to be excreting the hormone.**

**Derek stood center of the throng of werewolves and hunters. He kept his face composed, relaxed his body just slightly. His eyes were roaming over the mass of wolves across from him, searching out the one person he had to see. Scott was to his immediate right, shielding Allison who had refused to sit the battle out. She had one hand on her waist, thumb circling her hip. Peter stood on his left, a restraining hand on Lydia's shoulder. The female was beyond enraged; the ground around her feet was cracking, the air crackling with electricity. She'd definitely grown in strength. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Jackson had formed a loose semi-circle around them, all focused on their opponents. Chris and the Argents had formed a backline, all weapons loaded and aimed. **

**The alphas were standing tall like soldiers, shoulders thrust back, chins pointed. Each pair of red eyes were cold and resolute. These were wolves that had accepted that they could die in battle, but refused to let that hinder them. They stood in a loose pyramid formation, the red head at the lead. She wore a skin tight black body suit with combat boots. Her hair danced around her angelic face, shadowing her malignant smirk. Derek bristled, wanting to tear it off. **

**She was the first to speak across the void. "Hello Derek. I see you've come prepared to play this final little game. And you've brought snacks for my pups, how thoughtful." Her alphas snickered, eyeing the hunters greedily. **

**Chris stepped forward, lucidly flabbergasted. "Isabella McAllister. You survived after all these years?" He looked at the red head as if she were an apparition. **

**The girl…Isabella…recoiled as if he'd physically struck her. She faltered for a moment, but quickly replaced her cocky mask. "Yes Argent I have survived, and as you can see I am not the same little girl whose family you murdered in cold blood. I'd love to give you a detailed description of what I have been doing the last fifteen years, but sadly I'm here to eviscerate the lot of you." She grinned revealing her teeth. **

"**I don't have time for games! Either you surrender and leave or we will take you down." Derek growled, earning her attention. She glowered at him only a moment, before laughing, a wicked glint in her eyes. **

"**Oh Derek, but that is exactly what this is! A lovely little game I devised to watch you suffer. By the end of this you will be begging for me to end your pathetic little life."**

"**Nothing will make me bow to you McAllister. Not a damn thing." He readied himself, preparing to strike at a moment's notice. **

**Her face split in two, every tooth glistening. Her eyes looked crazed, her hair shaking vibrantly around her head. "Really, nothing could make you submit? Not even your…mate?"**

**Isabella raised her hand, snapping her fingers. The alphas around her parted; Derek and the betas held their breath. Phil strutted from behind them, a smug sneer on his face. He winked at Lydia who viciously tried to tear out of Peter's firm grasp. Derek felt his heart thudding in his ears, chest tightening suddenly. The man was leading on other person on a leash. The young man walked with his head bowed, shoulders twitching. The duo paused in front of the girl, the boy knelt before her. She placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing the boy's neck.**

**The boy raised his head. His eyes were wild and crazy, shifting from red to brown to gold, never settling on a single color. His skin was chalk white, droplets of sweat dripping down his face. His lips were cracked, a thin line of blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. He bared a row of dagger like canines, snarling hungrily. His back was arched unnaturally, as if his spine had grown. He could see the muscle rippling beneath his skin. He looked dangerous, he looked lethal, he looked like a monster.**

"**Stiles." The wolves breathed in unison. The air suddenly became rigid, neither side saying anything. The only sounds were the alternating whimpers and snarls Stiles was making. Derek could hear the quickening of breath, the shudders running through his pack's bodies as they took in their fallen comrade. **

**He himself couldn't tear his eyes away from the boy, even though the image was slowly shredding him from the inside out. Smoke filled his lungs, strangling him, his chest engulfed in malicious flames. Everything was being taken from him, everything. He knew immediately what Isabella's plan was; it was devious and horrid, but a good plan. She had done something to Stiles because only he would fight him, no one else would dare go near him. He would have to choose to let himself be killed and let the alphas obliterate his pack, or he could kill Stiles and let the torment whittle away at him until he lost control and killed everyone. It was brilliant. **

"**What did you do to him?!" Scott bellowed. Allison held on to his arm tightly, Chris falling back to help. **

"**I made him more fun, don't you think? It isn't anything permanent…I think. But you needn't worry about that Scotty boy. I'm all yours." Isabella shifted, winking at him. **

**Derek kept his eyes trained on Stiles but he allowed himself to shift. His betas reacted, tightening the formation, ready to attack. "Scott…I want her head." By the answering growl Derek knew there was no argument there.**

**Isabella's eyes widened with excitement. "Excellent. Stiles, kill boy."**


	14. Beast

_** SO Sorry, like a million times sorry for the long wait! AP classes kind of take your time away...and when you have a boyfriend who treats you like a princess. But anyway, here's another great chapter. I really hope you guys like it because I struggled figuring our how best to pull it all together. anyway, enjoy and please rate! Next update should be in four days!**_

* * *

Stiles would admit to anyone that there was no greater Hell than to be locked inside one's own mind and watching yourself do horrible things. He had lost control of his limbs, his body becoming a puppet for Isabella and the alphas. Death would be preferable to the daunting task of murdering his friends. All they had to do was say the word and he would have to watch himself do the unspeakable. He prayed that Derek wouldn't try to be noble and sacrifice himself to save Stiles; that he would do what was best for the pack and kill him. He prayed, but he knew it was futile. Derek would let himself die for Stiles sake, screw the pack.

His nose twitched as Phil jerked on his leash. The man was a sadistic bastard, insisting upon dominating him in any form or fashion. Stiles didn't hate Phil as much as he hated himself. He should have known something was wrong with the man from the beginning, but he had been watching them like a snake. He could have gotten them at any time, but he toyed with them deliberately.

Phil looked over his shoulder as he dragged him towards the battlefield. "Your friends talk a big game Stiles. Do they not realize it is the end for them? Well, all besides Ms. Martin." The man laughed mirthlessly as he led him to the front procession.

He looked across the barren field. Immediately his body reacted. He inwardly convulsed, the monster thirsting for blood, the real him battling for control. Flames licked at his insides as he fought the bloodlust, corroding his very bones.

"Stiles, kill boy." Isabella demanded.

Agony unlike anything else ripped through his body. He threw his head back, howling hungrily. The unholy sound made the hair on his neck stand on end. His vision tinted gray, pink around the edges. His claws dug into the cement as he lunged forward, a snarl curling his lips back. He ran straight at Derek, ignoring the battle breaking out around him. At one point, however, he faltered, watching Isaac getting beaten to a pulp.

Derek hadn't moved. He stood there in shock, completely human. Stiles wanted to scream for him to run, but instead he pounced. Taking the alpha by surprise, he sank his teeth into the man's shoulder. The sweet and coppery liquid spilled onto his tongue, dribbling down his chin. Derek grunted and threw him off. His back hit the pavement, knocking the breath out of him.

He growled and made to get up, only to have Derek pushing down on him. The man grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. He writhed under him, snapping at his arms. Derek's eyes flashed crimson, taking labored breaths as if to hold back the wolf.

"Stiles stop. Listen to me and pull yourself out of this." He growled. The words struck him to the core; he viciously fought, but it just wasn't enough. The poison in his veins was much stronger than he ever was or could be. And really what was to be expected? He was a weak human who'd tried to keep up with the supernatural without becoming a part of it. Derek had too much faith in him; he was crafty and smart, but not physically strong in the slightest.

Stiles wedged his foot between him and Derek, kicking out forcefully. It was just enough for him to roll over, the alpha now beneath him. He didn't hesitate and dug his nails into his stomach. He made sure to kneel into his chest, baring his fangs. The monster could feel the hot blood pulsing beneath the supple flesh, craved it even. He stabbed deep, tearing the precious tissue.

Derek roared, his wolf breaching the surface. The man plunged his talons deep into Stiles forearms. He howled as Derek tossed him easily across the pavement. His body soared through the air, the pain enough to draw on his likeness. He thudded against the ground, amidst a heated battle between Lydia and Phil.

He wasted no time clambering lithely to his feet, the monster within him begging to be satisfied. Derek was advancing, body vibrating with the true power of an alpha. Stiles snarled, slipping into a crouch and lunging. Derek sidestepped easily, bringing down a heavy elbow to his mid back. He whirled around in time to catch it, flexing his muscles quickly and snapping the bone.

* * *

Since becoming Alpha Derek realized he had limited if any self control. The wolf was always there just below the surface, always pushing. When he'd realized Stiles was his mate he tried his damnedest to reign in that power, to protect him. But now it was near impossible to hold back the monster within. His wolf was torn between the need to protect his mate and eliminate the threat. It didn't help that he could smell Stiles transforming, whatever they'd done was taking a toll on him. But he had to control it, had to way to subdue Stiles long enough to save him.

He didn't expect the flare of pain from his elbow. Without thinking he swiped with his free hand, catching Stiles' side. His claws sliced through the skin like butter, blood spilling onto his hands. The metallic smell wafted up his nose, snapping him out of his animalistic mentality. He stepped back, ashamed at himself. Stiles was not in control, could not heal like the rest of them. The boy groaned and fell to his knees clutching at the gaping hole in his side. His eyes were flickering between brown and red; his heart was now pumping furiously. "D-Derek…" he gasped.

It was that little bit that broke through his haphazardly built wall of control. The sight Stiles dying was more than he could handle. It brought him back to that fateful night almost seven years ago. The same fire was ignited in his heart, the same agony severing what little hold his heart held on the world. He thought back to what Scott had said, about Stiles just being a pawn drawn into a dangerous game…because of him. Just like his family. They were innocent until his selfish needs exposed them and made them vulnerable prey to the hunters. It was always his fault, if he could learn to deny his desires those he loved wouldn't get hurt. It was his fault…his fault.

The heat blazed with a fury unlike any he'd ever experienced. He crumpled on all fours choking on the rage welling within him. His muscles, tendons stretching to unbearable capacities; his nails elongating to small dagger like claws; his canines shredded his gums, coming to steak knife points; his human skin faded under a blanket of thick, coarse fur.

He snarled and stood to his feet, the battlefield bathed in red. His senses were running haywire. He closed his eyes and drew in a large breath. He could taste each individual scent there, the dead hunters, his comrades pushing beyond their limits. Their numbers were dwindling, but the alphas were growing weak as well. He opened his eyes and scanned, quietly assessing each battle. Jackson and Boyd simultaneously drove their clawed fists into his chest; Lydia was dancing around Phil's deranged swings, clearly on the defensive and sporting a fading cut from her chin to hairline; Isaac was standing over Peter's still form fighting off a burly man that towered over the boy; Erica was holding her own against two females, giving just as much as she got; and Scott was going toe to toe with Isabella. She was twirling around him, ducking and weaving before attacking swiftly. It was clear that Scott was losing and soon it would be too late to save.

He couldn't tear his eyes from her petite wolf form, able to see the beast inside that phony shell she was sporting. She was the cause of everything. She was just another Kate Argent, playing mind games to get what she wanted. This entire time she'd wanted power and to get it she'd twisted them all, made them dance to her will; even her own pack were expendable if it served her purpose. He wanted her to die for doing this to them, for doing this to Stiles.

* * *

Scott hit the ground underneath her. Her nails were buried in his neck, her cherub like face pressed against his. Her iris were darkening steadily, but they twinkled mischievously. She was stronger and quicker than he'd anticipated. He'd only caught her now and again, which he was certain was pure luck. When he'd fought Peter months ago he had been strong and an actual threat to the alpha. He might as well have been human now for all the good his abilities were doing him. There must be a reason why she was the leader of an alpha pack despite her size and physique. She gave off such a strong aura he found himself trapped under her, unable to move.

She grinned and pressed her pelvis against his. He smelled the lust all over her; she was getting release from the bloodshed and carnage, she was truly. "Come on Scotty, you can do better than that can't you?" she sat up straddling him, eyes roaming over his body. He couldn't help the blush that crept into his cheeks under her scrutiny. "You sure are lovely…powerful for a beta. Such a shame all that energy held back by a human girl…has she discovered what makes you tick?"

She leaned towards him, brushing her lips against his collarbone. He resisted the urge to shudder at her unfamiliar touch. She smiled against him. "This might pinch a bit…." Then she bit down into his shoulder, drawing blood and earning a strangled cry. She pulled back, licking her lips. "Guess you don't like biting…shame, I wonder if the Argent girl likes being bitten…"

The threat was barely concealed. He screwed up his face and swung his fist into her jaw. She yelped and rolled off of him, clutching her shattered face. He launched to his feet throwing himself at her. She whirled and he faltered. She had allowed herself to phase back into her human persona, a child if anything else. She fixed with large blue eyes and lightly pink cheeks. His wolf was confused; she didn't look like a threat, yet he knew what she was. Scott was not a monster, could not bring himself to attack someone so helpless.

She rolled her eyes and next thing he knew he was on his back his thigh split open. He gritted his teeth, glowering at her through watery eyes. She'd half transformed, all the while licking his blood from her fingers. She glided towards him sneering. "What's the matter Scott, too noble to hit a girl?"

Her eyes darkened and her body began to quake. He watched in frozen horror as he body contorted, unholy sounds coming from her. Her eyes pinched at the corners, her nose and mouth pulling into a gray muzzle. They pulled back exposing razor sharp teeth as long as steak knives. She dropped to all fours, panting in pain. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, turning snow white. Fur sprouted from her body, folding over her skin. Her back arched, her body mass increasing until she towered over him. She was larger than Peter had been; only she looked like an actual wolf instead of what he'd been. She fixed him with cool eyes. He scrambled backwards as she stalked him, baring her fangs.

He could smell the want on her, the insatiable bloodlust. She paused, assessing him with crimson eyes. He heard a low whistle and an arrow thwacked against her shoulder. Isabella howled and stepped back furiously. She shook with anger dislodging the weapon. He looked up at Allison who'd came to his side, already letting another arrow go. He could only stare at her in awe and fascination. He remembered when they'd first met how her smile was shy, her eyes innocent and wondering. He was captivated by her beauty, the way her raven colored hair would fall over her shoulders and her slender hips swayed when she walked. She'd had him around her finger from the beginning. He contrasted that to who she was now. She had a cold determined look in her eyes, jaw firm. She carried herself with a quiet confidence. Scott found himself falling more under her spell.

She looked down at him, eyes determined but fearful. "You aren't healing. Why aren't you healing?!"

He groaned. "She's an alpha, it takes longer." She desperately fired a volley of arrows at the demented she wolf.

"I can't hold her forever Scott. Can you get out of here?"

Her face was drawn, desperate. He knew what she was thinking and reached for her. He grabbed her arm and glared up at her. She scowled down at him mouth open to argue. Before she could speak the ground shook under a deafening roar. He covered his ears, the frequency high enough to drill a hole into his head. He screamed, unable to focus, even on Allison who was kneeling in front of him, arms wide as if shielding him. He blinked back tears as Isabella lunged at them. He desperately flung his body over Allison's. He closed his eyes, squeezing Allison to his chest, calming under her frantic heartbeat.

There was an answering roar, one that sent an icy chill down his spine. It burned through him to his core, to his wolf. It tugged on the sanity he had anchoring him to humanity. His vision tinted gray as he uncurled himself from Allison. She was staring dumbstruck at a large midnight black creature that stood between them and Isabella. The she wolf was hoisting herself back to her feet snarling as a large cut in her side sealed up. The blood stood stark against her white pelt. He looked at the black wolf, which was only a hair smaller, but radiated just as much power. He felt the urge to protect this wolf, to stand by him. And this could only be Derek Hale.

Scott had resisted joining him, the pull he had over him. It was nothing against him personally; just that Scott never wanted this. He didn't want to be a wolf or have his best friend and girlfriend pulled into the chaos. He didn't want one person to have such power over him that he had no free will. More importantly, he was his own person. He couldn't follow someone who might turn out to be a viscous killer; he'd have to disobey that alpha. It was better if he was single. But as he gazed at Derek and felt the tug he let himself submit to his will. Derek was and had always been his alpha, and he could only see now that the man was his protector and guide.

The giant beasts came at each other, jaws snapping at throats and claws raking at the bodies. Scott pulled on Allison who was still in shock. She looked at him, face comically pale. He held her gaze evenly. "Get out of here, before things get bad." She hesitated, searching his face for something before nodding and sprinting off. He grunted and climbed shakily to his feet, panting at the effort. The wolves continued to tear at each other, chunks of fur and blood flying as they came collided again and again. Suddenly Isabella caught Derek in his left shoulder, swinging the beast and letting him fly. The remaining fighters scattered as the wolf crashed to the ground, staring in disbelief. The combatants backed away, unconsciously forming a circle around the two wolves.

Derek huffed and looked at Scott pointedly as he climbed to his feet. Scott gasped as images flashed through his head. They were blurred but one thing stuck out- Stiles. He didn't understand how he could see any of it, but it quailed in comparison to hearing Derek's voice. "Scott, this isn't over. I will handle her, but get Stiles out of here while you can. I'm reading her and she is not finished with him yet." He shook his head and whined, unsure how or why he could see or hear Derek. Looking around he noticed that no other wolf was disturbed by it, some had even returned to dueling, though it was obvious that the alphas were down to the wire; only a handful remained. Scott quickly assessed the damage, his heart sinking. There were only five hunters left, including Allison and Chris; Erica and Peter were lying unconscious; and Jackson and Boyd were each taking on two alphas at the same time; Phil and Lydia were nowhere to be seen. The fight was too close.

He turned, sniffing the air for his friend. He followed the trail, confused as it drew him farther and farther from the battlefield and deeper into the trees. It was evident that Stiles was injured, splashes of blood on the ground. The hair on his neck stood up, his stomach churning, something wasn't right about this. There was something else here, an underlying scent so sweet it hurt. He paused suddenly, a twig snapping to his left. He pounced, trapping the struggling figure beneath him. He raised his clawed hand, prepared to strike when the moon illuminated bright green eyes. "Lydia." He breathed.

He quickly clambered off of her and helped her to her feet. She threw him a dirty look, tenderly massaging her arm. It hung at an unnatural angle at her side. He swallowed thickly, more so to keep himself from retching. "What are you doing? Where's Stiles?"

She blinked up at him, eyes glistening. "He…he bit me Scott, Phil did. I- I'm human again." She turned her eyes from him, taking a deep, shaky breath. "I almost had him, but then I got distracted…I felt Jackson, felt his pain. Scott he almost died so I- I used my energy to heal him. Phil took his chance and went after Stiles. I followed him as far as the edge of the trees and he bit me. Then he took off into the woods…I'm so sorry, I couldn't keep up!" she broke down, sobbing and shaking.

Scott felt hallowed out inside. Stiles was his best friend, his very first friend moving here. He remembered Lydia's stinging words earlier. For awhile he had blamed him and sometimes he found himself furious at the boy, but Stiles had never intended this to happen. It was all an accident, one started by a psychotic wolf. No, he was not supposed to be dragged into this, not this far. Scott looked at Lydia and gathered her into his side. She stiffened at his touch.

"What can you tell me about him Lydia, after fighting him, what can you figure out?" She sniffled and pulled away from him.

"I was able to see his heart, his emotions….the only thing that truly terrifies him…is…fire…" she trailed off, eyes widening. The wheels whirled in Scott's head. They looked at each other, the plan clicking between them. "Lydia…do you remember how to make the Molotov cocktail?"

* * *

She held onto Scott's hand like a vice as they tip toed down the empty hallways towards the chemistry room. It felt weird, being human again. Her body felt the difference, her muscles suddenly sore. The air felt unnaturally stuffy, as if she were pushing to feel what she could no longer feel. Scott was warm and comforting, though honestly he was as dim as the lighting. She'd meant every word she'd said to him and had much more to say should they survive this.

She may not feel romantically for Stiles, but he was certainly a good and loyal friend. He'd been the only one who hadn't treated her like a complete freak after she'd been running around the woods naked for two days. He worshipped her, even when she could care less about his existence he'd always been there waiting in the wings to pick up the pieces. Derek was lucky to have someone as devoted as him, but unlucky to have someone with a knack for caring too much. The boy would willingly give himself if he thought it would save everyone, and that was his only flaw.

They paused outside of the classroom and she pulled from Scott, looking at him meaningfully. He kicked the door, sending it flying half off its hinges. She rushed in, going straight for the supplies cabinet. Scott hovered protectively, crowding her into the tiny space. "Oh for Heaven's sake Scott! I may be human, but I'm far from fragile." She flipped her hair and deposited the ingredients onto the desk. She began slowly pouring the chemicals into the flasks, Scott fidgeting on the other side of the desk watching her carefully.

"I think I know where they might be hiding out." He began. She tilted her head in acknowledgement, brow furrowing in concentration. "I…I smelled crushing despair unlike anything before on Isabella. I think they're hiding at Isaac's old home."

She sighed exasperatedly and sat the last chemical down daintily. "Scott, unless you would like us to be blown to bits I suggest you shut the hell up and let me concentrate. You do remember how delicate this is right?" He nodded. She rolled her eyes and wagged a finger at him. "Then you would do well to let me think, otherwise this could go to hell and we'll both be killed and that bastard will get away with Stiles. Now, please hand me the sulfuric acid and for the love of God please make sure it's the right bottle."

He chuckled sheepishly, handing it over. She poured a small amount into each flask before stopping them up. She handed one to him eyes dancing with determination. "You ready to light a bastard on fire?"


	15. All Or Nothing

Claustrophobia is an irrational fear of tight or closed off spaces. After learning that creatures straight out of nightmares walked the same earth as humans, Stiles laughed at the thought of any normal ever scaring him again. Besides what could be more horrifying than a man or woman that could transform into a beast that could eviscerate you in less than a minute? Hours ago he would have said absolutely nothing.

That was before he woke up in complete darkness, hands and feet bound in front of him. His head throbbed, his side ached as if someone was pouring and igniting bleach in him. He shivered, breath hitching. His throat was as acrid as Death Valley, he couldn't even swallow. He took deep breaths, trying to ignore the ache in his body and the putrid odor of sweat and blood. He reached up, pressing his hands against the ceiling of his tomb; there was a little sitting room if he hunched over. The sharp pang in his side dissolved that idea quickly. After feeling around blindly for a few minutes he assumed he was in some sort of packing container. There was virtually no room to maneuver.

Stiles couldn't help but whimper to himself. It felt as if the walls were closing in on him. Was that dirt he smelled? Was he buried alive? He pressed against the lid of the container, but it was weighted down. The darkness was pressing in on him like a thick blanket. He was in a coffin. He shuddered. His breath hitched, coming faster and faster. His head swam from lack of oxygen, lungs constricting. He curled into a ball, the panic attack settling over him.

He felt like that little boy after his mother's funeral. He'd run deep into the woods surrounding the cemetery, slipped and fell under large roots. It rained for two nights in a row; he'd wailed continually until one of his father's deputies had spotted him. He was that boy again, only this time he was 100% positive that he really would die.

He didn't understand why Phil had brought him here in the first place. What good was it to have a dying human in storage? Stiles shuddered again, remembering the terror he'd felt when the man had pulled him over his shoulder and raced away from his friends. And then Phil had broken Lydia's arm and bitten her. At that moment Stiles wanted to be dangerous, a threat, a werewolf. But he was only a weak and pathetic human that fell into trouble time and time again.

He choked back a sob. There would be no escaping this; he couldn't figure his way out of this one. He should have listened to Derek and not try to play the hero. He was way out his league; Peter had been tame compared to this, Jackson had even been more manageable than the alphas. And because he was a thick headed prideful human he was going to die alone and terrified. He was alone, always alone.

Stiles closed his eyes fighting the nausea and the crushing weight that had always been in him. This was not him, this was not who he was in the slightest. He was a fighter at heart. That was why Derek had chosen him, because no matter what happened he was willing to stand. He was not going to lie and succumb wallowing in self pity. He opened his eyes and began pushing on the top of the container. His muscles protested, but he continued to overexert himself just because there was no other option. He'd been his own super hero time and time again, and this time would not be any different. He was not a damsel in distress.

He pushed until his side screamed in protest. Biting back a scream of his own, he sat back, breathing deeply. He closed his eyes, blinking away the nausea again, listening intently. He heard slow, deliberate footsteps approaching. Those could only be Phil.

He cringed against, the bottom, trying to make himself as small as possible when the lid was ripped open. He blinked up into the face of the rabid wolf momentarily before being drenched in the foulest smelling liquid he could imagine. He sputtered and yelped as it hit his many cuts. He raised his arms as if to block his face. Phil laughed, closing the lid again and plunging him in darkness once again.

He coughed, the strange substance burning his nostrils. Curiously, he brought his hand to his face, inhaling deeply. It was sickly sweet and pungent. It was familiar, so familiar it ran chills up and down his spine. Outside the container he heard more splashing hitting the floor. His heart froze suddenly, his breath caught in his throat. Of course he recognized the liquid…and what it meant. He pushed furiously on the container, no longer able to contain the fear ebbing at his heart.

"Help! Someone help me!" He cried as his fists banged on the roof. He heard Phil's distant cackle, but that was the least of his worries. No, what the man had just done sealed his fate. He'd doused the room in gasoline.

* * *

The house was foreboding: windows were missing panes or were chipped; the paint had peeled in several noticeable places; shingles were missing from the roof; the grass had grown to Scott's waist; and a horrid musty odor was seeping from the very foundation of the home. He and Lydia ducked under the police tape that still littered the property. She looked up at Isaac's old house in disdain, forehead wrinkling. He tucked her into his side, careful not to jostle the cocktail clenched tightly in her hands. She didn't protest to his touch as they approached.

He listened intently for the tell tale heart they were searching for. He heard one right on the other side of the door, calm and collected; the other frantic and practically screaming. He heard Stiles below them in the basement. He growled, knowing exactly where Phil must have stored him. Lydia looked at him. "Are they in there?" He nodded and drew her behind him protectively. She huffed, but otherwise said nothing.

Scott took a deep breath and kicked the door off its hinges. It crashed to the floor, sending a cloud of dust into the air. They stepped into the dimly lit room cautiously. Lydia gasped behind him, body quaking. "I-I've been here before. I saw Isaac here as a little boy…" she let the sentence hang.

She jumped at the small cough from across the room. Phil leaned casually against the kitchen doorway, picking at his fingernails. Scott crouched in front of her protectively, snarling in his throat. The man looked up and grinned, teeth gleaming menacingly. "I see you aren't as dumb as you look Scotty boy. And here I was prepared to start the show without you."

"Lydia, do it now." Scott whispered darkly. She cocked her arm back, prepared to throw, but Phil shook his head and tsked. "I wouldn't do that sweetheart. Fire is not something to play with." He spoke calmly, but Scott could hear the quickening pace of his heart. "I don't think Stiles would appreciate being burned to a crisp." The way he said the boy's name was sick.

Scott stood erect, catching Lydia's arm before she could throw the bottle. His eyes widened as he inhaled, tasting the air. It wasn't just must in the air, but a stronger odor. His nostrils flared, lips pulling back over his canines threateningly. Phil merely cocked his head to the side, that smirk widening.

"Scott what are you doing?" Lydia hissed in his ear, pulling her arm away. She looked between the two of them. He looked at her over his shoulder and she stepped back hastily, frightened of the burning fury in his face. "The house is drenched in gasoline. If we light him up…"

Lydia gasped, staring daggers at Phil. He watched the exchange in bitter amusement. "You bastard…you, you….." she roared with rage and lunged at him. Scott wrapped her up and deposited her behind him yet again.

"I've got him. Go get help. Now!" he didn't mean to sound harsh, but it was the only way to grab her attention. She jumped at his outburst, backing away. Her bottom lip trembled slightly, eyes glistening. He felt only momentary regret for making her cry.

"B-but Stiles…." She whispered as she backed out the door. He shook his head at her sadly. "I'm not going to let you get hurt Lydia. If this turns south, at least one of us will be okay." She hesitated, and then nodded solemnly. He watched her red curls disappear, and then turned to face Phil.

The man was phased, ready to fight. Scott let his animal instincts take precedence and despite his injuries, pounced.

* * *

Lydia Ann Martin was no coward. She had a thick skin and confidence that no man or woman could tear down. She was unwavering loyal to those she let into her life. Truth be told she was a major bitch, but she was no coward. She never was and wouldn't start being one.

Blocking out the sounds of the snarling beasts inside, she crept along the side of the house. There had to be a way inside that wouldn't get her torn to bits. Most houses in this neighborhood had cellar windows or cellar doors. She was tiny enough to squeeze if the need should arise, but she didn't smile upon that scenario.

She came across a cracked window hidden behind mounds of shrubbery. As she bent closer she held her nose, the putrid smell of urine stinging her nostrils. Only for Stiles, she thought as she lay flat on her stomach and shoved the rest of the glass away. She carefully poked her head into the cellar. The floor was unnaturally shiny and old discarded boxes and knickknacks cluttered the walls. She wrinkled her nose as she shimmied in, knowing the history of many of the pieces. They all knew about the abuse Isaac suffered before being turned, the absolute terror the sweet boy had endured for years. (She was still pissed that Jackson had known and done nothing for so long.)

Her feet hit the ground and she winced at the impact. The room was rigid with cold, cobwebs hung ominously over head, and the gasoline in the air was suffocating. She tiptoed through the basement, jumping at the crashes that shook the house above. She coughed, stopping so often to take shallow breaths. Phil had really crossed the line.

She heard it then, the frantic sobs and banging. She ran to the freezer, cursing loud and furiously. It was bolted with large industrial chains, the alpha symbol smeared over the top. She pressed her head close. "Stiles I'm here. Hold on, while I try to get this off."

"Lydia? You're okay?" he cried from within. She could hear the panic in his voice, smell the gas leaking from inside the container. The bastard had poured it on him too? Did they have no boundaries? She swallowed her anger and pulled on the chains all to no avail.

She heard the snarls and yelps get louder, closer to them. She hastily dashed to the pile of junk, shifting through it to find anything useful. There had to be wire cutters or something of equivalent value there. She heard Stiles grunting as he pushed on the container again and again. She didn't know how extensive his injuries were, but the adrenaline was helping him ignore whatever he was feeling at that moment.

"Damn, damn, damn!" she grunted, throwing another useless artifact behind her. There was nothing here that could possibly help! She needed something that only an alpha could give her now- she needed werewolf strength. The tears involuntarily fell from her eyes as she tried again tugging on the chains. She went into a fit of coughing, the smell too strong. Stiles was wheezing on the inside, sputtering and gagging. She wasn't sure if Phil would even need the fire to kill the boy.

"Stiles hang in there. Please hang on!" she couldn't hide the hysteria in her voice any longer. She let the tears roll down as she strained. It was no use, she just wasn't that strong.

"Lydia….Lydia you need to go…" the boy coughed. "Go; you won't be any use…dead."

"Stiles I'm not leaving you. You didn't leave me! You were there; I can't leave you like this." She wanted nothing more than to embrace him at that moment.

"Lydia Ann Martin listen to me! You. Will. Die. You're smart enough to know I'm not walking out of here at this moment. If you don't leave now-" She never knew how he would finish that sentence. The basement door flew against the wall, Scott with it. He hit the wall and slid to the floor. He blinked and his head snapped in her direction. She cringed, fearing for her life. She had never seen him so furious and deadly before; even Peter hadn't looked as furious.

"What are you doing here?!" he roared. She didn't have time to respond. Phil flew down the stairs, tackling Scott to the ground. She yelped, plastering herself against the wall as the two wolves rolled and ripped at each other. Phil was quickly gaining the advantage, Scott overwhelmed with Stiles being so close by. He shoved the boy against the wall, kneeing him repeatedly in the ribcage. Blood spurted from his mouth, his body sagging.

She shook with uncontrollable rage, watching him get pummeled. She acted without thinking, grabbing a figurine and throwing it at the back of his head. It shattered against his skull. He wheeled on her, snarling hungrily. The man released Scott and came at her, jaws open. She screwed up her face. Everything they'd been through flashed in her head. She pulled the flask from behind her back. "Burn in Hell you bastard." She threw it straight into his mouth.

The flames engulfed him within seconds, a high pitched scream tearing up his throat. The smell of burning flesh assaulted her nostrils. He collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony. For a moment she felt triumphant, then screamed in horror as the floor came alive in golden flames. They angrily licked around the cellar. She coughed as the smoke thickened, feeling along the walls for the window. Suddenly, strong arms scooped her up and raced her up and out of the house. The fire followed them as Scott ran her to the safety of the street.

Lydia looked over her shoulders, hot tears cascading down her face as he sat her on her feet. He held on to her comfortingly, rubbing her hair. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

She was shaking uncontrollably, falling to her knees. Her heart was broken. "Stiles!" she gasped, drinking in gulps of fresh air. Scott looked torn between comforting her and saving his best friend. He chose wisely. She didn't protest as he left her and raced back into the house just as the front porch collapsed.

* * *

The last alpha he'd really fought on his own had been Laura. Growing up when they'd battled he'd teased her about being the weakest; after all he was destined to be the next alpha, not his sister. But once she'd become alpha he learned his place. She was adamant about them training until their bones cracked and limbs bled. Day after day she took him out to abandoned warehouses around their apartment and promptly beat him to a pulp. She never went easy on him, her claws and teeth unforgiving. Laura never let him walk away until he landed a sufficient blow. She'd coldly told him that any other alpha would always go for the kill and that unless he wished to die he'd have to be willing to do the same.

He hadn't wanted to kill Peter, but the man was rabid; it was a necessary evil. But he had no qualms about slaughtering Isabella. He wanted to do more than just kill her. He wanted to tear out her entrails or pick her apart piece by piece. He wanted her blood to soak into the Earth, forever a remainder that he was not an alpha to be trifled with. He wanted this, but he would settle for what he could get.

The wolf charged him, bringing her heavy paw down on him. He dodged and snapped his jaw over her shoulder. His teeth tore through the sinew and muscles, snapping the bone. Isabella howled in fury and jumped back before charging him again. This time he flew at her and slammed into her, his claws raking across her underbelly. She bit down hard on his collarbone. They fell apart, both breathing laboriously.

Derek had learned two things about Isabella since they began fighting. First, she was formidable in battle, able to outmaneuver her opponent despite her size; secondly she was vicious, using underhanded tactics to gain the upper hand. That made it hard to fight her, but not impossible. He'd picked up a few tricks from Laura, both fair and dirty. What surprised him most was that she wasn't all that strong at all. When he transformed his power easily trumped hers. But he didn't get cocky. He wanted to end this quickly and get back to Stiles as soon as possible.

Isabella shuddered, swaying a little as she backed off. A feral snarl ripped from her throat. She shook her head, regaining her balance and fixing him with an icy glare. Her ears flattened against her head and she sat back on her haunches. He knew this was it, the deciding blow. Either he would finish or she would finish him. At this point it could very easily go her way, but for Stiles sake he had to win. He blinked and she was on him. He fell to his back, her claws carving into his flesh. She bent for his neck, going for the kill, when a projectile knocked her off.

He looked incredulously at Jackson, who was crouched in front of him. An arrow whizzed over head and buried itself into Isabella's chest. She stepped back, growling and snarling. He climbed to his feet, shaking off a wave of panic that suddenly shot through his body. He didn't know where it came from, but he had a chilling suspicion it wasn't good. Allison came to his right, face stern and cold. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, nodding stiffly. He returned it, knowing at least then that past sins were forgiven; they were pack.

Isabella ran at Allison before the girl could even raise her crossbow again. She stepped back in fear, throwing her arms up in defense. Erica darted out in front and planted a perfect roundhouse kick to the wolf's jaw. The audible crack momentarily froze them as Isabella fell back. Boyd came before them suddenly, holding Isaac above his head. The boy then hurtled his pack mate at Isabella. Derek watched in fascination as Isaac flew through the air, transforming at the right second and landing on the she wolf's back. Isabella bucked and howled as she tried to throw him off. The boy plunged his fist between her shoulder blades. She crumpled to her knees, eyes closing.

Isaac slipped off her back and made to rejoin them when a white paw swiped out and grabbed his ankle. He fell with a blood curling scream, his head bouncing off the pavement. Isabella stood to her feet, dragging him to his feet and holding him like a human shield. Her nails pierced the delicate skin of his neck and let herself de-phase into a half wolf. She glared at them.

"Enough. Back down or your beta dies." She kept her eyes level with Derek's as she dug her claws a little deeper in Isaac's neck. He hissed at the pain.

"Don't Derek. Kill her." He winced when she pulled him tighter against her.

His betas whined next to him, Allison lowered her weapons. Derek didn't shift. He kept his face composed as she growled at him. He wasn't going to transform, this was far from over. He grinned at her. Her nostrils flared. "Did you not hear me Hale? I said I will kill your beta if you don't back down. You're just as bad as my alpha. You'd sacrifice your subordinates to save your own skin." She spat.

"Actually, he was waiting for me, his dear uncle, to rescue the boy before he beheads you." Peter whispered behind her. She gasped, but it was too late. Peter grabbed her arm and twisted it back. She released Isaac and turned on Peter. He side stepped her and in one fluid motion picked up Isaac and bridal style carried him behind their ranks.

Isabella's eyes widened comically. She gulped and turned tail and ran. Derek looked at his pack. They waited for his command patiently. "Go find Scott and Lydia. I've got her." They nodded and dispersed. He bolted after her, her trail leading him into the dense shrubbery. It didn't take him long to catch up to her. Her red hair whipped out behind her as she ran; he reached out and fisted it, jerking her back. He slammed her against the nearest tree raising his hand to slash her throat. "It's over," he growled.

Her reaction was confounding. She began to laugh maniacally, throwing her head back. He growled fiercely at her. "This is far from over Hale. Don't think you are the only one who knows what tonight is. History will repeat itself. Kill me Derek, but there is no saving him, not this time. Once again Derek you've killed the person you love."

Derek roared and slashed through her throat, the hot blood spurting on him. Her eyes glassed over, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He stepped back and let her fall to the ground. He breathed deeply, flexing his muscles. She couldn't have meant what he thought she meant. There was no possible way… suddenly he seized, as if his body were on fire. He screamed into the night, holding on to the tree for support. His vision swam with tears. He felt like he was coming undone at the seams, flashes of red and gold running through his head. He looked over his shoulder in the distance, hearing the tell tale explosion. "Stiles!" he roared. He turned, running full throttle to his mate.

* * *

The house was going to come down. Derek knew it as soon as he reached the street which was now filling with people. He shoved them out the way carelessly, pushing through to the front of the crowd. He saw the pack tussling with bystanders who were trying to hold them back from the fire. He grabbed the one holding Erica and slammed his fist into his face. The others backed off as the man dropped cold. Lydia was in hysterics, but she ran at him as soon as she spotted him.

"The basement, they're in the basement!" she screeched. "There's a window on the side of the house. Hurry!" He nodded and ran towards the crumbling house. Isaac and Boyd followed as they came around the side. The window was impossibly small for any of them to scramble through. Derek grunted and punched at the flaming bricks, watching them crumble away.

They jumped through the freshly made hole into the inflamed basement looking for Scott and Stiles. Scott was laying unconscious half on the cooler; it was apparent he was tugging at the chains. "Isaac, get him out of here." The smaller boy darted forward and pulled Scott's arm over his shoulder. The boy groaned, eyes fluttering. They were red and puffy as they fell on Derek.

"I-I can't get him out. Derek it's going to explode." He fell over gasping and seizing. He was having an asthma attack.

"Isaac go!" he barked running for the deep freezer. He angrily tore at the symbol, straining to hear the boy trapped inside. There was a faint heart beat, but it was dropping sluggishly. He and Boyd pulled at the chains, snapping them easily. He ignored the pain from the heated coils of metals, throwing open the cooler.

Stiles lay semi conscious in the bottom. He blinked up at them, his heart spiking, lungs expanding with air. "D-Derek." He reached for him and Derek hastily wrapped his jacket around the boy, pulling him into his arms. Derek swallowed back his tears, just embracing him.

"I'm here, I'm here, it's okay." He nodded to Boyd and they started making their way to the hole. Boyd stepped through first, into Erica's waiting arms. He stepped up next, handing the boy to Peter. He stepped out next, immediately taking him back. He heard the crowd gasping and a fire truck in the distance. He looked pointedly at everyone, making sure they were all accounted for. Erica and Boyd were embracing as if it were their last night; Isaac was leaning Scott against the fence, letting him gulp lungs full of air; Jackson was cradling Lydia to his chest; Peter was standing back in the shadows pointedly; Allison stood awkwardly in the middle, unsure of her place.

They all looked at him and he couldn't restrain the lone tear sliding down his face as he looked down at Stiles. "Everyone to Deaton's. quickly, before authorities arrive."


	16. Decision

Since becoming involved with supernatural beings almost a year ago, Stiles had accepted the heightened possibility of death. He'd always fought his hardest to survive, but had known that one day things would go too far and the gnarled hands of Death would steal his soul. He no longer feared death itself, more so the mannerism of it. He feared the crushing black that would sweep over him; the arctic cold that would forever bind him to the earth; and finally the painful gush of his last heartbeat and breath. And now his worst nightmare was coming to pass.

He could feel the warm arms cradling him against Derek's chest, but that didn't evade the compressing chill holding his lungs. He could see the flashes of light and color around him, but that didn't hold back the daunting darkness creeping over his eyes. He let a few stray tears leak from his eyes while his heart continued to throb painfully in his chest. He blinked, concentrating on the wild thrumming of the heart holding him, the rasping pleas, and bitter choking of unshed tears. He held onto it as the light slowly faded and despairing blackness overtook him.

* * *

_He had gone to church sparingly in his life, once when his mother died, and every Christmas or Easter. He believed in God, but could never sit still long enough surrounded by stuffy old women who liked to assault him with their bosoms or talon like fingers. But he remembered clearly when the preacher had described heaven to his Sunday school class. He remembered it because the man had looked him deep in the eyes and told him that his mama was there at the pearly gates waiting for him, and that one day they would walk the streets of gold together. He was positive that was what Heaven looked like, so he was confused to open his eyes, lying on his back in his own home. _

_The house was peacefully silent, all besides the soft twinkling of bells. The luscious scent of lavender and mixed fauna wafted up his nose, calming his racing pulse. There was a nice breeze tickling his bare chest. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of his mattress. He rubbed his face, surveying the room warily. He gasped, suddenly feeling so small. He was in his childhood bedroom, racecar bed and all. Numbly, he crossed the room to the buzz light year calendar he'd gotten that year for his birthday. He couldn't suppress the tight smile as he overlooked the childish scrawl on certain squares, each marking a day his mama wasn't there. Then his eyes strayed to the empty little box in the corner. He suddenly felt the stinging in his eyes as he realized exactly what day this was. This was the day his mama had died. _

_He waited for the constricting of his chest that accompanied every thought of the woman, but it never came. He swallowed the lump in his throat, turning away from the calendar. Why was he here? Was this his hell? To relive that day over and over? He sat with his back against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on top of them. He glanced at the Elmo clock on the wall. It was barely scraping eight o'clock and he knew that in ten minutes the phone would ring and his life would end. He closed his eyes and waited, counting each ominous tick of the clock. He waited, but the sound never came. _

_Cautiously, he opened his eyes. He was still there in his room, but the time was now nine thirty. Had an entire hour passed so quickly? Shaking, he hurled himself from the room. The hall was oddly illuminated and the sound of bells was growing louder. He crept down the stairs, feeling an unnatural pull by the sweet twinkling. The siren sound dragged him to the kitchen doorway. At first he couldn't believe anything he was seeing, then his knees gave out and he sank to them, an agonized sob filling his throat. _

_The woman stood about five-feet-five-inches. She had soft, silky chestnut hair that fell in wavy crests down to her waist. A few strands hung in her heart shaped face, caressing her warm dimpled cheeks. When she blinked, her lashes lightly kissed her cheekbones. She lightly brushed some of her locks from her face with dainty hands no larger than tea saucers. She cocked her head to the side, the unnatural light catching her face and gliding over her flawless skin. She breathed in slowly, a delicate smile touching her baby soft lips. Her chest rose and fell gently, as if she never needed support. She easily spun around the kitchen, eyes closed all the time. Her cherry red sundress twirled around her athletic legs. His bottom lip quivered as she played with a worn apron spotted with several colors and a crudely painted picture of a tiny stick figure boy and his parents. The woman continued to ignore him and he was drawn to her mouth. They were moving smoothly and he heard the bells. She was singing. He listened harder as the words became clear and crisp. He whimpered, recognizing his mother's favorite song Concrete Angel. The woman paused at the sound, facing him for the first time. He watched the smile broaden sadly and her arms open, inviting him in. He held his breath as her lids pulled back, exposing the honey and amber irises he'd inherited. _

"_Mom." He choked. It was impossible that she was here in the kitchen, but here she was. She nodded, a golden tear leaking from her eyes. _

"_Oh Stiles, my little boy." Her voice was just as he remembered; soft and gentle like the wind, but warm and embracing like a fire in winter. He went to her, entranced by her sweet smell of lavender and honey and…him. She rubbed his head as he wept into her, feeling like a child again. She continued to sing softly, giving him a minute. Every tear that touched him from her eyes warmed his heart and fluttered in his stomach. "Mom." He sighed contentedly. _

_She smiled at him, suddenly lifting him effortlessly. She cradled him against her chest as she glided to her favorite rocking chair. He was dimly aware of a glow accompanying her as she moved. The sat and she continued to hold him, caressing his face like she had when he used to have nightmares. He felt a lightness in him that he hadn't felt in a long time, since she had died actually. This must be heaven, he thought. This was something singled out for him and perhaps his father, but no one else. He snuggled against her, wanting to remain there forever._

"_Stiles sweetheart I am so proud of you," she whispered, "I could not have wished for a better son." _

_He looked up at her angelic features, momentarily choked up. "Y-You're proud of me?"_

"_Of course I am. You are everything to me. You kept control of your father after I passed…you never forgot me…" _

_He sat bolt up, holding her hand between his. They weren't cold as he'd imagined, but similar to the sun filtering down to them in early spring. He held her eyes, his eyes, with quiet intensity. "I'll never forget you mom. Never." He swore softly. _

_She smiled sadly. "I know you won't love; I will live though you."_

_He looked at her, suddenly confused. "But mom…I'm dead. I'm with you forever." He didn't understand what she was saying. Wasn't this Heaven? Wasn't she waiting for him? Unless…unless she really did blame him for her death. Did she? Did she want him? _

_Her hand cupped his chin and pulled his face to hers. She was crying again, but he'd never seen a crying woman look so beautiful and breathtaking. "Stiles sweetheart, you can't stay here. You still have much to do in your life; you are too young to join me. I have never blamed you sweetheart, nor will I ever. You are my heart and your father's heart. As much as I want to keep you in my arms I have to let you go." _

_He wound his arms around her slender neck. "Why mama? Why?! I can't do this anymore! I'm weak, I'm nothing. This entire time I missed you and now you can't keep me? Mama I need you." He sobbed. She went to rubbing his back again as he sniveled against her shoulder. Her hair tickled his nose and he grabbed two fistful just like he used to. It was as soft as a feather, sliding through his fingers like pure water. _

"_You are strong son. More than I could fathom. You mean more to your friends than they are willing to let on; even the Whitmore boy is fond of you. Look at me Stiles." She waited until he pulled away and looked at her. "You are loved more than any person can be. You may be human, but you have forged a bond with them stronger than any pack mentality. You have created a family through love, son. A pack does not mean that all members love one another, that they even respect one another. But your pack, they are a family to the core. Peter Hale did many terrible things, but in the end he stood by the lot of you when murdering his nephew and taking back that power would have been easy to accomplish. No, you all are family, and despite what you may think they all love you and each other. At this moment they are at wits end, grieving over you." _

_He said nothing; just laid his head on her chest to get control of his breathing again. He knew in his gut that she wasn't lying to him, that they really did love him. He knew it, but it did not lessen the blow any less. Here was his mother, everything he had wanted and back in the world of the living was his father and friends, everything he could have. He looked at his mother through his wet lashes. "Do I get a choice?" he mumbled. _

_She tightened her grip ever so slightly. "Of course you do. But before you decide I want you to remember how you felt when I died. The impact I had on you, your father, everyone. Do this for me son." _

_He refused to meet her eyes. He remembered that first crushing year vividly despite his best efforts to lock them away in the darkest corners of his mind. She stroked his cheek and began rocking gently. "I left an impression on this world that is hard to forget, but painful to remember. It was horrible to watch as those I left behind succumbed to the pain and hid away that spark they had for fear of remembering the piece of that spark that belonged to my memory. I wanted nothing more than to be with you then Stiles. When your father began to drink himself away I wanted to live again, at least for that moment to hold you and him. But I could not, and I watched over you, being a shield only when I could. But you have done so much more. The impression you left on the world has even outshined mine. If you do pass there will be no turning back. You will have to watch the destruction of those you love one by one and be helpless to stop it. If you die they will not overcome Stiles; they will fall apart. Your father will self destruct, and no one will be able to stop it; poor little Scott, that boy will be scarred for life, blaming himself for what happened to you; and Derek….he has lost so much already, to lose the love of his life will utterly destroy him. Think of them my son, if no one else. I will still be here for you when it is your time, but that day is not today." _

_He nodded against her, squeezing his mother for what felt like the last time. "I love you mama." He closed his eyes as she embraced him, her skin glowing brighter than the sun. He heard the sound of bells again, feeling her press her lips against his forehead. "I love you too my boy." Her arms slowly left him and he was left holding her apron in his fists. He held it to his heart, drawing in the faint traces of her there. There was a knock at the door and he just knew that if he answered he wouldn't be returning to this place for a very long time. _

_Gritting his teeth, he pushed to his feet, neatly folding the apron and laying it across the rocking chair. As he neared the door he heard the twinkling of his mother's voice again in the kitchen. He hesitated, hand on the doorknob. He bit his bottom lip, wanting to turn back and go to her arms, but he had a sinking feeling that if he did there would not be another knock for him. The door pounded again and he heard them, his friends. They were calling to him on the other side. He swallowed fresh tears at the one that struck him in his heart the loudest. Derek was calling to him pleadingly, the heart break evident in every whisper. He steeled himself and opened the door._

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**Author's Note: Hi my faithful readers. I want to just tell you guys that I only have two chapters left in the story, but I have a special treat for you guys. The last chapter is planned out; the only problem is building up to it. You guys have a chance to send me any ideas for the second to last chapter, and I'll pick the idea that best flows with the story. I know, HIGHLY unconventional, but I'm curious what you guys think. So you know the drill: review or PM me anytime! **


	17. All That I'm Asking For

**Author's notes: So here is the second to last chapter, what I firmly believe to be the pivotal point in the story. Kind of fluff and angst…idk you decide. Enjoy!**

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He should have known better than to get attached, should have known that it would not end well. Didn't he learn his lesson seven years ago? Was the death of his family not enough to teach him that those he loved suffered? He'd thought years of keeping everyone at arm's length had finally built an impenetrable wall; but as he looked around the cramped vet's office he knew he was wrong. The group of teenagers had somehow managed to break through every barrier he'd had in place, even more disgruntling, they'd done so to his obliviousness. Didn't they understand by now that he could not protect them? After all, it was his coming back to Beacon Hills that had set the wheels in motion. Peter needed Laura, but he'd come first and she'd followed. He'd bitten Jackson and killed Allison's mother. He'd brought the Alphas to their door step. It was his entire fault….

He braced himself against the cement wall as another wave of unbearable agony ripped through him. He unwillingly let a low hiss slide through his teeth, earning distressed whines from his betas. It was in their nature to protect their alpha, but unless they could turn back the clock there was no stopping the torture.

The bond between mates is strongest when both consent, when both are fully aware who they are to the other. After marking the wolves (wolf in this case) can experience everything their partner does, both good and bad. When the mate is dying or in grave danger, the bond begins to tear at the body, the heightened sense beyond normal magnitudes. Everything he felt, every twinge or jolt was the result of the bond. It was weakening, meaning his pain was reaching unbearable levels. If Stiles died he would shortly follow; there was no avoiding it. But he accepted that, welcomed it even. It was his fault anyway; he should have never pulled him into any of this, it was wolf business.

He sucked in air through his teeth, vainly attempting to ignore the stuttering heartbeat in the adjoining room. They'd run as fast as they could, but it wasn't fast enough. He'd lost too much blood, could barely breath. Deaton took one look at the boy's mangled body, eyes sliding professionally over the grotesque gashes in his side, before setting to work. The others had to physically restrain him as Deaton went about his work, wanting so bad to save his mate the one way he knew how: the Bite. Scott had actually been the one who took him down, raging that if he didn't expressly ask for it, Derek had no right to bite Stiles. The others supported him without preamble, much to Derek's displeasure. But he knew they were right to stop him; they could still detect small traces of poison in Stiles, and no one was sure what would happen if an actual wolf bit him. He'd relented, and then the pain started.

His eyes stung from tears, but he refused to let the burning wetness betray him. Tears showed weakness, showed you cared. They didn't do much more than that, and if he was to be there for his pack he couldn't be weak. He was the fearless alpha; the protector of his betas. He couldn't afford to break now, not when they needed him the most. It was his weakness that cost him too much seven years ago and now it had cost him again. He couldn't care anymore, had to be a steel wall if he wanted to build his life again….if he could withstand the agony of losing Stiles.

He heard the door at the front of the vet's office crash open and his eyes snapped open. He looked at his pack whose faces had crumpled in misery. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the brief hallway, the heart thudding in the chest. A series of troubled whines slipped from his betas as the scent hit them. The sheriff stepped into the back room only moments later.

The man looked like hell. His normally groomed hair was sticking up in wild tufts; his face abnormally pale and haggard; his clothes covered in ash and wrinkled; his hazel eyes were bloodshot and rimmed red; his body visibly shaking; sorrow seeping from his pores. He looked around at them, eyes finding Derek sitting dejected against the far wall. The man's face screwed up in fury and he marched over, gripping the front of his shirt in a tight fist. Derek allowed himself to be jerked to his feet, unwilling to meet the murderous gaze of his mate's father.

"What the hell happened to my son Hale?" his voice quivered with barely contained rage and fear. "Where is he?" The sheriff shook him violently. Derek finally met his gaze, but couldn't say anything. The words refused to make any sense and his lips refused to move.

Scott stood and made his way to them. His eyes were round and large, much like the puppy Stiles called him. He lay a trembling hand on the sheriff's shoulder. "Sheriff you need to sit down."

The man looked at the boy coldly. "Not until I know what happened to Stiles." His words were clipped and forced, as if any moment he would explode. They left little room for argument, but Scott pressed on.

"Please, we can explain everything, but Derek can't. He won't answer us or move. Look at how easily you man handled him. If he wasn't in shock do you think you could have easily done that?" He was pleading now, his voice steadily growing into a heart wrenching whine.

The waited in tense silence for what felt like an eternity before the man released him and sat in one of the nearby plastic chairs. His knee bounced up and down with suppressed energy, much like Stiles. He kept his gaze pointedly on Scott as the boy dived in to the tale, filling the sheriff in on everything that had happened that night. Derek squeezed his eyes closed, willing himself to block out the events that had led to this moment.

He instead stood and numbly made his way over to Lydia. The girl was mumbling incoherently, face buried in Jackson's neck. He knew she was suffering, blame causing her to go into shock. He didn't know exactly what happened in that basement, but whatever did occur had been her decision. Still, Stiles condition was not her fault, and she needed to know that. He reached out and gently touched her arm. She jerked as if electrocuted, unfocused eyes searching his frantically. Her heart was thudding far too loud, her breath hitching as she inhaled. How long would she be this way? How many more terrible nights would she have to endure?

"Lydia it's okay…it's okay." He whispered soothingly. Jackson's arms tightened momentarily. It was hard for him to let his mate out of his sight after all that had transpired. Derek couldn't blame him, but felt a twinge of longing to hold Stiles like that. What he wouldn't give to feel the warmth of the teen's arms wrapped around his neck…

He swallowed thickly. Damn it, he couldn't do this. He was never meant to be alpha; that was to go to Laura. She was the strongest of the children; resilient and resolute when it came to decision making. She rarely displayed emotion, and even on those rare occasions it was brief and controlled. If she was in his place she would not allow them to see her break. No, she would be a statue, an example to follow.

Derek returned to his wall, reluctantly looking at the sheriff again. The man's lips were pressed into a tight line, hands fisted at his sides. His eyes sparkled, but there was something different about his demeanor. He caught him staring and stood to his feet. Derek winced as the man brushed past him, heading towards the tiny room where Deaton worked. "When my wife was dying I was there. It killed me to watch her waste away to nothing, but I was there every day, making her laugh and smile. The doctors and nurses pitied me, saying I was only prolonging my and her suffering. I didn't care one iota about any of them; I wanted to be there for her regardless the repercussions. I held her hand when she died, when her lungs finally collapsed. I was there."

Derek said nothing. Stiles had never spoken about his mother, even after everything that had happened between them. Even after Derek had grudgingly given little snippets of his old life, the boy had remained silent and private; Derek hadn't pressed. But here was his father speaking of her as if she were there beside him. His expression remained blank as he spoke, his voice void of any emotion other than anger. The sheriff looked over his shoulder at him. Derek shuddered under his scrutiny. There was no question where Stiles had inherited that bone chilling look.

"You shouldn't be here. And I think you know that." His words were soft, but hard. The sheriff moved out of the way, gesturing to the door.

He gulped, feeling fear unlike anything he'd ever felt. He knew what the sheriff was trying to say, but the man didn't understand. He wouldn't just watch Stiles die, he'd feel it. He'd feel the process as the boy's soul was torn from his body, leaving behind a frozen corpse. Could he be there?

His feet moved slowly against his wishes. He heard the pack stand and follow him as he neared the door. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air, churning his stomach. He hesitated before pushing the door open and stepping into the room. Deaton ignored them as they filed in, working vigorously. Sweat was on his brow, face contorted in concentration yet peaceful. His hands moved fluidly over the boy's body, attending every bruise and scrape visible.

Derek suddenly felt weak when his eyes fell on the body. The skin was still pasty white, though covered in blue and purple blemishes. The chest rose and fell rapidly with each labored breath; the heart was beating sluggishly as each minute ticked by. His side was still somewhat gapping open where Derek's claws had torn through it. He wanted to vomit, but swallowed the nausea. He had done that, he deserved to view the damage. He focused instead on the boy's peaceful expression, using it to stay anchored to humanity. Even in near death, the corners of his lips were still pricked in a small grin.

A warm hand slid into his and he looked back. He stared at the girl in disbelief. Of everyone he would not have expected an Argent to be comforting him. Allison resembled her aunt when the woman had been younger, but there were important differences. Her eyes were soft and caring, not wild and seductive; her smile was genuine, not placating and hungry. No, she was not like Kate. Here she was on the anniversary of his family's murder standing with and not against them. "He's strong, remember that."

He opened his mouth to respond when a small cough came from behind. The room erupted in chaos, the wolfs fighting to get to the metal table. They crowded around Stiles, laying their hands on him. They looked fearfully at Derek who still hadn't moved. He was stuck in that spot, his limbs not responding. Had they imagined it? Was it too soon to gain hope? The minutes rolled by before Stiles coughed again.

This time Derek ran to his side, cupping his face gently in his hands. The skin was icy, but somewhat warm. He resisted the urge to cry as the pack pressed closer to him. "Stiles can you hear me? Stay with us. Please, please stay with us." He touched his forehead against his, no longer able to contain the tears. They splashed on the boy's face, running down his cheek and into his hair. He couldn't lose him.

A cold hand gripped his wrist weakly and his eyes popped open. He recoiled, the hand thudding to the table. Stiles' eyelids peeled back, a groan sliding through his lips. The other teens backed away in shock, uncertain what to do. The boy went into a fit of gurgled coughs. Derek rushed back to him, gently lifting his head. They waited in tense silence until the fit subsided. The boy wheezed a few more seconds, before looking up at Derek through hazy eyes. He smiled weakly up at the panicked wolf.

"I knew you would come. I knew it." He rasped. Derek shook his head and pressed his lips against the boy's forehead. He couldn't seem to find his voice, though there were a million things he wanted to say. He was dimly aware of the pack and Deaton edging out of the room, but otherwise made no note of it. He clutched Stiles closer; afraid that at any minute fate would strip him away.

"Derek it's okay, it's okay." The boy crooned softly, gripping one of his hands. The wolf shook as the tears fell. _He's alive, he's alive, _Derek thought as he breathed in the boys scent. His wolf howled in rage. Stiles no longer smelt like himself, but instead of the alphas, smoke, and death. Derek shivered, realizing just how close the boy really was. He wanted to rip the alphas apart piece by piece; too bad they were all rotting in Hell.

Stiles pressed icy lips against his chin, earning his attention. The normal brilliance and twinkle in his eyes were gone, replaced with fear and exhaustion. He never wanted to see the boy like this ever again. "I'm okay. I knew you'd come for me. I knew." His voice cracked and he swallowed thickly.

Derek cupped his face in his. "Stop it Stiles. You are _not_ okay and you know it."

"But-" the wolf smashed his lips against the boy, cradling his head.

"I swear if you say you're fine I'm going to rip your throat out." He whispered against his throat. The trauma Stiles had suffered tonight would take time to get over and Derek knew that he was only trying to spare his feelings. It didn't work that way; not anymore. The boy was not an omega, he was _his. _

"With your teeth?" the boy chuckled. He wanted to laugh, but there was nothing left in him besides pure relief that Stiles was alive. He wanted to cherish the sound of his voice forever, only now understanding how critical it was to hear it every day. He felt the hollow void within him mending, the missing piece finally returned.

Derek kissed him tenderly, relishing the softness of his lips against his. Stiles arms loosely wrapped around his neck, holding him. His skin was slightly warming up, his heart beginning to race. This was the boy he knew, the one he almost lost. He involuntarily shivered at the alternative. Stiles frowned and pulled back, probing him with an irritated glare.

"I'm not going anywhere, not for a long time." At that Derek pulled away completely, laying the boy back on the table. He knew he shouldn't be angry but didn't Stiles get it?

"Stiles when I found you I thought we'd already lost you. I thought you were dead! Does that mean nothing to you? What they did to you was- was…" he grunted in frustration. There were no words to even describe how despicable the alphas were. All he knew was that he'd love to kill them all over again piece by piece.

He turned back to the boy. His eyes were round with hurt and pain. His bottom lip trembled ever so slightly as he stared at him. Derek felt sick to his stomach. Damn he hadn't meant to make the boy more upset. "Derek you have no idea what happened; none. Don't ask because I- I just can't say it. Not yet at least. But don't say it means nothing. The entire time I thought about you, about Scott and the others. That kept me alive, that kept me strong. I already know what you're going to try to do to protect me and it's not going to work. I'm not staying away from the pack."

He was guiltily shocked at the boy's intuition. But he was wrong about one thing. "I'm not kicking you out of the pack." The simple sentence seemed to reverberate off the walls. Outside he heard the collective gasp and closed his eyes. He didn't want to look into Stiles' eyes as it fully dawned on him what was happening, but that didn't stop him from being assaulted with the boys crushing grief. He peeked at the boy who was now shaking so hard the table trembled underneath him.

Derek tried to hold back, but his limbs disobeyed and drew the boy into his arms. He held him as fresh tears made their appearance. _It's for his own good,_ he thought firmly. But that didn't erase the pain in his heart. Was this really for the best? Was it really for Stiles or for him? Was he being selfish?

Suddenly Stiles stopped crying and pushed off of him. He met him with red rimmed eyes. "You don't mean that. You don't because I know you, Derek. I told you I wouldn't hurt you like Kate Argent did and I meant it. I won't take everything away from you. I won't." His eyes flashed as if daring him to contradict him.

Derek just stared appalled at his mate. Was he really comparing him to Kate Argent? Was he really that broken to accidently misjudge him? He said nothing; just let himself be tugged back into Stiles' arms. The boy rested his head against his chest. "We have to trust each other Derek. You have to trust that I'll never hurt you…and I'll have to do the same."

The wolf tenderly grabbed his chin and lifted his face. He stared down into the honey and amber eyes. "I trust you." He whispered. He pressed their lips together and drew him closer. He would not let go, not this time.


	18. You'll Be In My Heart

_Six weeks later_

Allison squealed in protest, beating her fists playfully against Scott's shoulder as he hoisted her above his head and tossed her into the river. She popped back up, laughing and cursing him mirthfully. The boy grinned crookedly and splashed her before charging towards the bank. Erica lay out on the rocks trying-vainly- to get a tan going. Boyd lounged against a tree nearby, a wrinkled paperback novel in his hands. His nose was buried deep in it, as if at any minute he hoped to be pulled into the pages. Isaac was walking hand in hand with Iris along the edges of the trees, grinning like a love sick puppy. It was clear that he was putty in her hands, her smile her ultimate weapon. Lydia was sitting on the porch watching the others with a faraway look in her eyes. She'd taken to sitting by herself pensively since Jackson had left only days ago; it was hard to be separated from him so soon after…things had settled down. Peter stood just in the shadows of the porch, watching her curiously as if unsure what to make of her. They'd all noticed the stunning between Lisa and Lydia and had chosen to keep a closer eye on the man since then…just to be safe.

The sun stood center in the sky, warming them. There was not a white blemish in the sky, but a light breeze carried the rich smell of autumn with it. Little woodland animals scampered about and birds arched through the sky overhead. From his perch on the hood of a sleek black Camaro, Stiles watched them all fondly.

They'd somewhat slipped back into their normal lives; well as normal as things would ever be. They still bickered constantly and more often than not pissed off a certain alpha from their antics. Strangely though, they'd all-except Peter-taken to sneaking into his room at night and snuggling down with him. He didn't particularly mind, but having to explain to his father why he woke up with several different strands of hair on his bare chest was complicated. The sheriff was the only sour note to the whole thing. He openly blamed Derek for what had transpired six weeks ago as well as grew distrustful of the wolves entirely. Stiles wasn't so sure he'd appreciate having his son sleep with lethal creatures of the night.

He sighed and lay back, carefully cradling his broken arm against his chest. His doctor had assured him he'd have to only wear a small brace once school started in a few weeks, but that didn't stop the inconvenience of having a broken limb. The pack already coddled him enough as it was and they seemed to be dying for any reason to pamper him more. He was flattered they cared, but seriously it was time to move on. He still had nightmares, but there was nothing they could do to help; hell all of them had nightmares, but they were stronger together.

A light wind tickled his neck and he looked up at the Hale house. Derek had decided to start rebuilding the structure, building a home for the family. It hadn't been easy for him, but after Scott had suggested they do it together he'd softened some. At the moment he was conversing with a private contractor about God knows what. Stiles just hoped he knew that they weren't going to ask him to change anything he didn't want to. In all reality the house was beautiful in its' own creepy- burnt out shell kind of way. Stiles was sure Derek could see it too if he could ever look beyond the gloom.

Stiles closed his eyes and let the peace settle over him. His thoughts drifted to his mother and a sad smile kissed his lips. He'd been unable to lock away or erase the image he had of her now. In some ways it gave him closure. Maybe it was because he knew that she really wasn't suffering anymore; or maybe it was knowing that she had never left him, even in death. It was something unexpected, eliminating the loneliness he'd harbored for years.

He yawned and stretched. Things were different with everyone now. Scott and Allison had broken up, but on good and consenting terms. He wasn't sure what that was about, but they both still acted like a couple so it wasn't a big deal. Erica and Boyd…well nothing had changed there except Erica dressed more modestly and refrained from acting like a bitch twenty-five percent of the time. Jackson was still the die-hard handsome, cocky bastard he'd always been; at least now he wasn't trying to maul him every chance he got. Isaac was obviously the sweet puppy of the group, easily replacing Scott in the adorable category. Seriously, no one- except Derek and Peter- could say no to him. Allison had warmed up to them, basically becoming the line her father and other hunters were not allowed to cross. It had been hard for her to choose sides considering her entire family revolved around the practice of exterminating wolves; yet here she was as much a part of the pack as the others. Lydia had asked for the Bite again after they were positive Stiles would make a full recovery. She'd taken to it well, seeming to skip over the crazed uncontrollable phase the others went through; it suited her quiet confidence.

Derek was different all together. He still brooded and frowned, but every now and again he'd make a crack and have them rolling and clutching their sides. He was trying to be more than a hard ass dictator and more like a friend to them…at least Stiles thought so anyway. Even after they first got together he was touchy and possessive, but not really affectionate. It pleased Stiles to see him try; to just hold him for no reason at all and kiss him. He hadn't said 'I love you' but he'd allured to it. Stiles was fine with that; he could take his time as long as he didn't try to leave him again. I mean come on this wasn't some real-life-Twilight-thing. He wasn't going to push nonetheless. The man did his best to control his temper, but that was a lost battle from the start. Seriously one man could not control eight teenagers and Stiles; it was physically impossible. Though it had been hilarious to watch him literally bust a blood vessel yelling at them when they'd decided to "test drive" his car; naturally after being caught they'd ratted out the mastermind-Stiles of course- and let him get growled at for nearly an hour.

And Stiles noticed a change in himself. He'd lost much of the insecurities that had held him like a vice only a month ago. He'd become slightly more assertive- okay not really- and had a long chat with Scott. That predictably ended in the two not talking for about an hour. But he realized how much he depended on the wolves, not for protection, but for a family. It was true that in some form or another they all came from a broken home, he just never counted himself in that category before. After that night he'd reexamined his life. He loved his father to death; but had never really understood that there had been a wedge in between them since before Peter, but after his mother died. He'd been blind to see it at first and now that he knew the truth he felt compelled to change it. But that wasn't what had changed the most. He had been forced to finally accept his own humanity as it was and embrace it. He still had no desire to be a wolf, despite Derek's halfhearted attempts to persuade him. The alphas had broken him, and while Derek was clueless as to what really happened in those short hours before the showdown, Stiles knew he would never recover until his mate knew the truth. It would kill him to have to relive every moment again, but they needed it, needed to finally seal the coffin.

He inhaled and smelled sweet roses, pulling his lids back to look at Lydia's beautiful eyes. He offered a smile and adjusted so that she could cuddle next to him. She rested her head on his chest and he began entangling his fingers in the red locks. There was no needs for words to be exchanged between them anymore; just the simple touches were enough. While he didn't feel romantically for her anymore he knew without a doubt that she was honestly the most beautiful and self conscious girl in California. While others couldn't see past the bitchy exterior he could break through to the scared girl underneath. That was why she chose him to be her friend…and he knew deep down that's all she ever wanted from him in the first place. She didn't want a lover or boyfriend, but someone who was willing to break her to help her. They'd grown closer and he felt protective of her, despite the fact that she was stronger of the two.

They sat in comfortable silence, him playing in her hair, her tracing lines on his chest. It was how they'd come to communicate sometimes when words failed to touch them. The others didn't understand but that was okay, it was their secret language. From just her friendly caresses he could feel her loneliness. Yeah she had the pack, but they all knew what it felt like to have your other half missing; you simply weren't incomplete. He continued to listen as she non verbally told her story, every now and then squeezing her shoulder for reassurance.

She eventually drifted off to sleep on his chest and he yawned deeply. Overhead the sun looked as if it was going to set. He turned his head to see the betas making their way towards him and Lydia. Iris had apparently left, oblivious that her boyfriend was a werewolf. He gently nudged Lydia until she looked up at him sleepily. "Stiles…." She whined softly, bottom lip protruding.

He flashed his signature smirk and raised an eyebrow. "Move over a little babe, the pups are coming."

"Hey!" Scott cried indignantly. It probably would have worked if Boyd had protested, but as it was Scott merely resembled a puppy with his ears drawn back and everything.

Lydia cut them a glare and possessively wound her arms around him, getting comfortable again. "First come first serve." She mumbled into his shirt.

He chuckled as the others managed to squeeze their way onto the crowded hood, each trying to find a perch on his body. Isaac lay directly parallel to Lydia; Scott had taken the left leg and Allison the right; Boyd had not gotten on the car at all, rather sat on the dusty ground by his feet; and Erica was curled around his head. He loved the warmth of them pressed together. The wolves snuggled closer, purring at the proximity of their brothers and sisters. He may not have been a wolf, but he felt the sensations they felt without inhibition. They pressed their noses into him; that was also common considering he still had faint traces of alpha on him. They were trying to help.

"You smell good." Erica sighed. There were murmurings of agreement as they nuzzled slightly closer. Stiles wasn't sure exactly how that was possible, but they manages, even leaving space for his arm.

Isaac pierced him with those puppy dog eyes. "Do you mind?" Stiles rolled his eyes at the ridiculous question. The teen asked the same question during every puppy pile, as if one day Stiles would say "No Isaac I want all of you to leave me alone."

"Isaac it's one thing to look like Scott, but we already have one retard in the group we don't need another."

Scott squawked and the group laughed. Scott was easy to pick on because he was….well clueless is a nice way of putting it. He knew it was all good naturedly anyway and often joined in on the jibes. After a few more insults were thrown they settled down. One by one the betas fell asleep, until Stiles felt his own eyelids drooping. What a peaceful afternoon….

"Just what the Hell do you think you guys are doing?! Get off my car!" Derek roared. The teens instantaneously popped up, scrambling frantically like…well puppies.

"It was Stiles' idea!" Lydia called as she darted after her friends who'd retreated to the river.

"Thanks guys…such great pack mates we are!" he called after them irritably. Great now he was in trouble. Derek sauntered over, signature scowl in place. Stiles pouted. "Are you going to rip my throat out with your teeth?"

The wolf blinked at him. Stiles cheeks flushed. What had he done embarrassing now? Slowly Derek leaned into him and ran his nose along the side of his neck. "You smell like pack now." he purred, arms wounding around his waist. Stiles flushed deeper, knowing that nay second his arousal would become evident to every werewolf in the state of California.

Derek pulled back and hungrily attacked his lips, careful to avoid his side or broken arm. "Is that a good thing?" he gasped when the man pulled back. Much to his pleasure the man was trailing kisses up his neck to that special spot behind his ear. He gripped his shoulders in anticipation. Then he pulled away again and Stiles felt cold. Derek cupped his face in his hands. "I love you Stiles Stilinski." He never got the chance to reply, the man's mouth crushing onto his. In the distance he heard the mix of catcalls (Lydia), disgust (Scott and Boyd), and collective awws (Isaac and Allison).

He ignored it as his love held him closer to his heated body. This was what family was like, what love was like. And he would rather die a thousand times than lose this moment.

* * *

**Author's Notes: So it looks like this is the end…for now! I'm really happy to have been able to write this for you guys, because really it wasn't easy. I want to give special thanks to Bethisafan77 and Ayres Kelle who have been reading and reviewing since the beginning. They've both kept me on my toes the entire way, so some credit goes to them as well. Anyway, I'm already working on the sequel but in the meantime I may compile a little "insider's" look at some of the things in the story. For example, how did that alpha break Jackson's arm? There was just too many things to include, so hopefully this makes up for it. Who knows I might even do a short story on Isabella's background. Only if you're interested of course! So again, thanks for reading and keep an eye open for anything else. **


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